


The Oceans Shall Freeze

by DiscoNight, realityiwanted



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vikings, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Religion, Romance, Slow Burn, True Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-10-02 18:04:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 121,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscoNight/pseuds/DiscoNight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityiwanted/pseuds/realityiwanted
Summary: Even, the Berserker, has never wanted for anything, content with living out his days in solitude and blood. When his hoard makes a pit stop at a small Jutland village for the first time in years, he wants. So he takes.Isak has never known a life outside of his village. Now he must learn the new ways of the North in order to survive the seemingly endless winter.Can their hearts melt the ice that divides them?*Chapters 16-22 have now been uploaded - this fic is now complete*





	1. Soul Is Bound

**Author's Note:**

> Considering that Skam is a famous Norwegian TV show, we considered there to be a distinct lack of Scandinavian historical influences in the fanfic community so far. So here is our attempt to bring some Viking drama to the cast of characters we know and love. 
> 
> This will be a novel length, multi-chaptered Historical AU of two parts, featuring violence, bloodshed, romance and all that good stuff you'd expect from Norwegian vikings and their thralls. Please note that while we have done research into Viking culture, we are by no means experts and we hope there are no glaring mistakes found within. If we have got anything horribly wrong, please don't be too mean when you let us know! Now without further ado, please read and enjoy and let us know your thoughts. <3
> 
> Additionally: this is a historical AU with period typical violence so we will be warning for triggering content on a chapter by chapter basis.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even discovers something more valuable than gold.

**Prologue - Soul Is Bound**

_Due northwest, the soul is bound_

_And I will go on ahead free_

_There is a light yet to be found_

[The Last Pale Light In The West, Ben Nichols](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atuJzivuF1o)

 

**Midsummer, 804 AD**

**Even**

The midsummer sun illuminated the ocean and dappled the azure waters with flecks of crystalline silver. Even tasted salt on his lips; the spray from the sea as his oar hit the water, and the physical exertion of rowing both hard and long, combined to form a fine sheen on his sun-darkened face. He grunted with exertion, his voice lost amongst the chorus of the men who surrounded him, and amongst the gulls’ cries overhead.

There was a palpable sense of relief when Erik declared land. From the southernmost ports of Viken, they had travelled two days and nights in order to reach the smaller villages of Jutland that were scattered by the coastline. Here, the sun shone brighter and the vista revealed fields of endless green that reflected warmer climates.

They navigated their longboat over to the shallow waters with one last push and then they jumped in so they could haul the boat to the shore. The water had been warmed through by the sun and was a pleasant relief to those they had travelled from. It reached Even mid-thigh; he smirked with childish pleasure when he saw Christoffer Schistad, just up ahead of him, submerged to the waist.  

“We will head for the higher lands,” Erik instructed them once they had pulled the boat far enough away from the tide. “The further inland, the greater the abundance of produce.”

They shrugged off their fur skins and marched. The trek through the clusters of small farming villages was arduous; Even’s stomach rumbled with hunger, unsatisfied with the meagre portions of dried fish and bread dished out on the longboat, and around him the men of his tribe complained and whined in ways unbecoming of warriors. Though, perhaps the term ‘warriors’ was too kind. Some of those travelling were barely men, their bodies unscarred and their faces guileless.  They acted with according ignorance.  

Even paid them no mind.  He did not generally keep company with the other men of his village if he could help it, and even within his hoard he cared nothing for friendship.  In fact, those closest to his age were those he was most wary of.  He looked ahead to see Erik Magnusson flanked by his two sons; dark-haired William, who towered above everyone in the tribe except for Even, and blonde-haired Nikolai, a good half a foot shorter, his legs working tirelessly to keep pace.

William and Nikolai were as different in personality as they were in looks.  Though Even held no fondness for either, William was by his nature silent and impenetrable and slow to respond to all but the rallying calls of battle.  Nikolai was short-tempered and cruel, his reputation for anger and unpredictability exceeded only by Even himself.  Erik had seemed to split himself in half when he had created Nikolai, and then given the other to William upon his arrival into the world.  

But Erik seemed not to hold affection for either son. He was a commanding mixture of silence and malevolence that had propelled him forward as the natural successor to the last of their chiefs, a role that would have been taken by Even’s own father had it not been for his untimely death. But it was a combination of traits that made him an uneasy father figure. In point of fact, he often appeared to entrust Even with more responsibility during raids and battles, which perhaps explained Nikolai’s longstanding hatred for Even.

It was not an affection that Even had asked for, but Erik had given it to him anyway, and Even found he was compelled to follow Erik’s orders. After all, he was the only person that seemed to see through the lies about Even.

“What do you think, Berserker?” Christoffer asked from beside him, pulling Even from his ruminations.  Even looked over to the small wooden hut he was inclining his head towards, built on the edge of a settlement that looked as though it would blow over in a strong wind.

“I think they would be short on food for eighty odd men,” he said levelly.  Christoffer groaned in frustration.

“Not _that_.” He gestured more specifically, and Even realized he was appraising a woman stood outside of the hut, a baby pressed to her chest as she stared at their party with trepidation.  She was typical of the women of Jutland; tall and sturdy with wide hips and fair hair.  Even saw nothing spectacular about her but Christoffer continued to smile, clearly hoping to engage him in some sort of conversation.

“Oh,” Even said.

“Worth a quick detour?”

Even simply tightened his mouth and Christoffer immediately stopped talking.  He was not unintelligent, which was possibly the only thing Even tolerated about him.  In truth, he was widely regarded as a joke figure within their tribe: a vain and narcissistic pretty boy who would sooner charm his enemy than fight them.  Still, his father was Erik’s right hand man, and he was generally considered to be quick-witted and good company. Therefore he was permitted to travel with their tribe, much to Even’s chagrin.

“Keep on!” Erik called out to them.  The tiny settlements that dotted the green rolling hills would provide no useful offerings and so they continued to walk until the small wooden huts became more thickly populated and the makings of a small village, complete with a small wooden church at the highest point, arrived on the vista ahead.

They headed towards this and their arrival was met with the usual yelling and panic and fear. It was always the same.  They were men of the North: taller than most, darker and sturdier and physically imposing in a way that struck terror into the hearts of villagers such as these.

Ahead of him, Erik pulled out his sword and his men followed in unison.  It was for show rather than function.  There was no point bloodying their weapons on a defenceless village of farmers and their dependents.  There was no fight here to be had.  

They saw villagers rushing into the huts, hiding themselves away, and by the time they walked through to the centre of the settlement, there were no signs of life whatsoever.

They had more joy when they approached the fields where the farmers toiled; twenty or so in total, their fair skin red from the low hanging sun.  Even watched as some from his tribe approached with swords; he rolled his eyes as the farmers cowered in fear.  They were dragged from the fields and back into the village centre, demands made of the produce that would sustain the tribe for the journey to Northumbria, violence bursting through unchecked from the North men when they walked too slowly or trembled too pathetically.

Even was already weary of this exhibition.  There was no sport in terrorizing farmers; he only came alive for warriors worthy of his attention.

And so he lingered a little longer, his sword sheathed again, as the rest of his tribe followed the farmers back through to the village.

He was taken in by the sheer vastness of the fields surrounding the village.  There was some greenery to be enjoyed in Hålogaland when the warm weather was finally upon them, but nothing as limitless as this.  He dreamt sometimes of pastures such as these, but he was a product of the North; frostbitten and hardened, his presence intolerable to the simple folk of Jutland.

And then he heard loud laughter, followed by screams of delight, and he blinked against the sun, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes.  They scanned for the source of the noise, which seemed so unexpectedly placed given the fear he had just witnessed.

He soon found what he was looking for.  Three people - children, really, no older than fifteen or sixteen years of age, emerged from the thicket of trees that lined one of the fields to the West.  They had not yet noticed the arrival of the North men, and so they were unafraid.

Even watched as they played at wrestling; the game essentially one of chase as they conspired against one another, then attempted to evade capture, before falling back to the ground and pinning their current opponent. There appeared to be no fixed rules or method to their physical contact, and their piercing laughter suggested they were not taking it seriously.

He was some distance from them but his eyesight was keen and once he had finished appraising their activity, deciding it was of no value to make his presence known, he began to look more closely at their appearance.

Two were female.  The loudest of the party was auburn haired and womanly, her curves as generous as her laughter.  There was another, strikingly blonde with pale skin and a sweet voice that carried over to Even from some distance.

The most beautiful of the three, however, was the boy.  Like the second girl he was pale skinned and fair haired, but his face was unrivalled.  With the sun behind him, his blonde hair shining like gold, Even assumed he must have been created by Sól himself.  There was no other explanation for his perfection.

His body was slim and proportioned, his legs long, his shoulders small and his waist narrow.  This was not a boy who had been expected to toil on the fields, despite his age, and Even wondered the reasoning behind it.

Something twisted inside him, something dark. But he was also fearful of these feelings which appeared so unexpectedly.  He watched the two girls fight the boy to the ground as he screamed with laughter.

A single word thudded through his consciousness.  _Mine_.

But before he could decide what there was to do about this, he heard his name being called from the village.  He had lost all concept of time watching the three youths, and now it was time to go.

Reluctantly he tore his gaze away from them and headed back. _There is nothing you can do now_ , he told himself.  _You cannot steal him away before the voyage._

The realization left him bereft.

As they headed back to their boats, loaded up with supplies that would no doubt leave the villagers on minimum rations for months, he felt himself growing angry.  The boy was precious and the farmers of the village were woefully ill-equipped to protect him, to protect any of their vulnerable children.  Every day, bands of travellers came from across the sea to colonize, to rape and to destroy.  And though a tiny village in Jutland proved no real pull for tribes such as Even’s, the teenagers he had seen today would sell for large amounts as thralls.  Of that he was certain.  The boy in particular would be seen as a prize worthy of a king.

Ahead of him, he heard Nikolai talking to another of their tribe, Knut, about how one of the farmers had pissed his pants in terror when Nikolai had put a sword to his neck. “I simply laughed and left him bleeding across his jawline.  Sometimes these idiots humiliate themselves enough without my assistance.”

Even clenched his jaw, wondering who would defend the boy if someone came to take him.

“To Northumbria!” Ludvik Schistad yelled, and his rallying cry was met with cheers from the North men. All but Even, who was lost in his own thoughts.

Though the journey to Northumbria was long, Even did not forget the boy’s face, or his body, or his laughter. And with each passing day, the need to see him again grew stronger until it consumed him completely.

 

 

 **Early Winter, 804 AD**  

The journey back had not been as smooth sailing as the journey going. Njord, the sea God, was angry on this particular day, and their boat was at his mercy as he toyed with the strong currents that tilted them back and forth.

It was not simply Njord who had disfavoured them.  Their ship was twenty men less than they had set out with, and the riches they had raided from Northumbria were far less bountiful than they had expected.  Erik was furious; he stood now at the stern of the ship, his voice harsh and ragged above the wind.  “Keep rowing, weaklings!”

His face had taken on an almost haggard quality during this voyage, his soul blacker now than when they had left.

They were headed back for Jutland. Upon stopping in Nortmanni to refuel, they had discussed next steps.  Erik knew he would be disgraced if he come back with twenty less men of the village than had set off, particularly as they had little to show for their raid.  And so Erik, Ludvik, Nikolai, William and the others had debated their options well into the night as they replenished with wine and hot food at a tavern near the port.  

Even sat at the end of the benched table, turning a small carved wooden horse over in his hands. He had taken it from one of the villages, attracted to the intricate craftsmanship of it; the mane was textured and flowing, the mouth open as though the horse was mid-neigh. One leg was lifted, ready to gallop away. It was a carving intended for a child but Even had always been attracted to those small, beautiful objects that seemed to contain part of the makers’ soul.

Perhaps he had believed he would give it to the boy one day. The beautiful golden haired boy who seemed a world away. And then he blinked, realization setting in.

“We should just go home,” William had grunted. “It is done. We should cut our losses.”

Nikolai fixed his younger brother with a cold stare. “Perhaps you wish to take the coward's route, but I would prefer to bring something of substance back to the village. There is a great many options we can undertake now, such as -”

Erik glared at them both, cutting off Nikolai’s posturing with a small growl. “You would do well, the pair of you, not to discuss strategies as though you understand what you are talking about.”

Even had cleared his throat. He was aware of the sway he held with Erik.  It was a sway that had been there for many years, even before he had covered himself in glory during this voyage, but certainly his prowess during the voyage aided his words.  He had fought relentlessly even as the rest of the raid had fallen apart.  Besides Nikolai and William, no other North men had proven themselves on this voyage.

“I have an idea,” he said, and he almost smirked with amusement when he heard tankards slamming down on the wooden benches, the men around him looking in barely concealed interest at Even, the _Berserker_ , voluntarily addressing them.

“Well, let’s hear it,” Erik encouraged him.

“In the village we visited in Jutland, on our way to Northumbria, I stayed a while in the fields and I saw three youths of sixteen years of age, more or less, and of unsurpassable beauty.  They would make fine thralls, and I suspect there are more within the village.”

They had all listened to him, even Christoffer who had a serving girl pulled into his lap, his face buried in her cleavage as she murmured to him encouragingly.

“We _are_ in need of new thralls in the village,” Erik agreed.  “And we could sell any others we do not desire on the way home.” Beside him, Nikolai glared balefully at Even, seeing any accordance between Even and his father as a personal slight against him. But he had no cause to argue.

“New thralls? Why not just go from port to port and pick up all of Christoffer’s illegitimate offspring?!” Knut had asked, and the men laughed raucously as Christoffer looked up from his distraction and grinned sheepishly.

But it had been decided during the evening that Even’s suggestion was a good one, and they vowed to set out in the morning for the long stretch of sea to Jutland.  

Even’s heart was at once like stone, weighed down by the feelings of guilt that engulfed him - this boy, a boy he had seen only once, was to have his life ripped apart because there was no other option for him, or for Even.  But his heart was also delirious with excitement, with anticipation. Within days of travel, he would see that perfect face again, he would feel the boy’s eyes on him when he addressed him for the first time.

 _That is,_  he thought darkly,  _if nobody has got to him first._

This was unthinkable to Even.  He had known as soon as he had seen this boy that he belonged with Even. No, he belonged _to_ Even. There was no future for him in a village that could not protect him, and Even would be willing to lay down his life to keep this boy safe. And so his guilt was temporarily assuaged. He had made the right decision bringing the North men back here.

As they disembarked from the boat on the inlet they had set sail from three long months ago, the waters were cold through, though still nothing compared to those in the fjord that surrounded his own village.

It was to be a night raid, and their torches lit the way had as they began to march. They had little time ahead of them but each footstep felt like torture to Even.

“I was wondering,” Nikolai said from beside him, and Even looked across to face him, “Why you did not mention these _prizes_ before?  It seems a strange thing to keep to yourself.”

“To what purpose would talking about them earlier have served?” Even asked.  Nikolai smiled at him, deceivingly soft, and shrugged his shoulders.

“I suppose you are right. Still. They must have been memorable, for you to remember them after three months of battle and bloodshed.”

And then he was gone, his bear skins sweeping behind him as he walked faster to catch his father up.

 _Soon_ , Even told himself.  _Soon you will see the boy again_. _And all this shall fade into insignificance._

Ahead of him, the fire crackled on the torches, the flames dancing with impatience.


	2. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak is taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments on the prologue! We're happy that a lot of you guys seemed to appreciate the research we put into getting Viking culture right and we hope we won't disappoint moving forward. From this point on, we'll be including definitions for terms name dropped in the story so you won't be too lost. Things do get a lot darker from here on out so please heed the warnings for period typical violence.
> 
> Warnings are in the end note to avoid spoilers.

**Chapter 1 - Sweet Dreams**

_Travel the world and the seven seas_

_Everybody's looking for something_

_Some of them want to use you_

_Some of them want to get used by you_

_Some of them want to abuse you_

_Some of them want to be abused_

[Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This), Emily Browning](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxdwEOpGknk)

 

**Early Winter, 804 AD**

**Isak**

“Get up.”

Isak only had a moment to take in the terror of a man standing above him, before he inhaled sharply and screamed. A leather clad hand immediately covered his mouth, his scream and his breath stifled until he was writhing and clawing desperately for air. When he thought he was going to die this way, it was finally wrenched away. He panted, sucking in air greedily at the reprieve but it was short. In place of a hand was the cool edge of a broad axe, pressed under the vulnerable point of his chin.

“Quiet your tongue. I have listened to enough screaming today, I do not have patience for anymore.”

The warning was clear. Isak nodded and the axe was withdrawn and sheathed before an ash dusted hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, and ripped him from the warm safety of his bed roll. The ash left visible black smudges on the white of his shirt and Isak wondered where it could be from. He did not get another second to think before he was shoved out the arch of his door way and into the bitter cold and shockingly bright darkness of his world on fire.

The only word Isak could find to describe the madness going on outside was, chaos; complete and utter chaos.

The village, usually hidden under the shade of night, was illuminated by a vivid orange light that seemed to engulf everything around him. This was not the comforting soft glow of an early dawn but the harsh ruddiness that only came from the burning of torches. His lungs burnt when he inhaled the harsh black smoke so he covered his mouth with his sleeves, trying to stave off fire sickness.

His eyes darted past the burning huts and screaming people, looking desperately for Eva’s familiar curved figure or the back of Vilde’s fair head. Instead, he caught the eye of Sara, being dragged by her dresses by a brute and shrieking, high and shrill, before she was pulled from sight. He stood there, unable to look away from the spot where she had just stood, her screams somehow becoming louder even as she was taken further away. Her cries stopped abruptly but he did not have time to comprehend what this could mean before the man leading Isak jostled him, sending him spiralling into the grime and ash.

“Move, boy. Or I will give you something to look at.”

The man grabbed at himself crudely through his bearskins, looking down at Isak with a lewd expression. Isak had never had a man look at him like that but he somehow knew what it meant. He thought of Sara being dragged into the woods and the way the man had pulled her by the collar of her dress, exposing her pale shoulders to the cold air. He refused to contemplate what was happening to her right now, or why she had stopped screaming.

He tried not to let his fright paralyze him as he pushed himself off the dirt path and forward.

They walked for a few short minutes, until the burning houses behind them were far enough to look like a vibrant tapestry if Isak squinted. The villagers that they had chosen to spare were outside, surrounded by pillagers who were laughing and talking like this was just a day at the village market, and not the worst night of their lives.

Isak scanned the group, looking over tear stained faces and those obscured with ash until he spotted the familiar halo of Eva’s hair. Vilde stood beside her, her blonde hair as dark as Isak had ever seen it, grimy with dust. Lit up under the red light of the flame and covered in soot, his two friends looked like valkyries.

“Eva!” he shouted as he pushed himself away from the man holding his elbow and threw himself into her arms. Isak clung to her wildly, his fingernails digging into the soft of her shoulders. Usually when he got like this, Eva pushed him away and told him to remember his strength because _we’re not children anymore_ , but today she clung back, digging her own nails into the small of his back.

Isak was glad for it. Her small but sturdy body against him felt grounding in the midst of the terror surrounding them.

“Are you hurt?” she asked frantically, pulling away to run searching hands over his face and his trembling shoulders.

He shook off her hands and shook his head hastily. “They scared me, that’s all. How are you?”

Eva inhaled shakily and brushed his golden hair out of his face before speaking. “I woke to the hut burning around me. I thought they were going to let me die but they pulled me and Mama out before it collapsed.”

Her voice, always calm and steady, broke for a moment before she composed herself and continued in a hushed whisper. “They took her. She’s with the rest of the elderly and the sick.”

Isak and Eva both knew what that meant. Pillagers had no use for those who could not be put to work or sold. They had all heard the stories.

“Maybe they’ll have mercy.” Isak said weakly, not even believing his own drivel. These men, monsters who pulled children from their beds and burned down their homes, did not know what mercy was. Instead, Isak prayed that the Gods would show mercy. They were the only ones who could help them now.  “They have no reason to kill your mother or the rest of them.”

Not that they needed a reason. There was no reason behind any of this. They took what they wanted as they pleased; it was how things were done in the North.

He knew what would happen to the rest of them. He was young but he was not a fool. The only other people, besides Isak, Eva, and Vilde, that were currently gathered on the village outskirts were children. Young, fair and unsoiled. They would fetch a fair price, sold away to be worked till their deaths or worse, used until they were old broken things. He knew that children were taken from villages all over Jutland, just like theirs. The stories were all the same. The children were stolen after twilight by pillagers and taken to Troll’s Bottom where they were never seen again. Still, he did not dare say any of this to Eva, who looked like she might faint at any moment.

For once, Eva nodded and let herself be comforted by Isak’s words. That was how he knew the situation was dire. Eva always said he was the worst liar of the three of them.

“Is Vilde…unharmed?” Isak tried delicately, discerning that the fair haired girl had not said a word since he had spotted them. He had expected her, of all of them, to be panicked and crying like a newborn babe. Defying his expectations, Vilde was as silent and still as a stone. She did not even react to the sound of her name, her hand hanging from Eva’s upper arm limply. She seemed to be stuck in a trance, her blue eyes blank as she stared at the flames ripping through the kindling that used to be their village.

“Vilde.” Eva whispered anxiously, shrugging her hand off her arm in favour of lacing their slender fingers together. Vilde looked down at their joint hands and seemed to slowly come to life as she considered Eva, and then Isak.

“I’m so scared; I can barely move.” she admitted quietly, her sweet voice wretched as she tried to hide how petrified she was. Her wet eyes betrayed her and Isak felt his own fill with tears. Eva wrapped her arms around both of them, until their heads were both resting against hers. The small space between the three of them felt like a fragment of peace that they tried to desperately hoard. The high wail of one of the younger children broke that peace, causing Vilde to flinch.

“What do you suppose is going to happen to us?” she murmured, her voice thick with misery. Neither of them answered but Eva pulled away first, the calm between them ruined by the harshness of their reality.

Isak noted that she did not let go of Vilde, their hands still interlaced as Eva ran her thumb over the shaking pale of the gentler girl’s hand.

“Come on girls, why don’t you give us a show?” one of the men yelled.  He laughed cruelly when Vilde jumped at the sound and dropped Eva’s hand like it was on fire.

Eva looked hurt for a moment before she schooled her face into one of stone. Isak knew that face well. Eva had always been the strong one for them. She was not about to falter now. Vilde needed Eva to be calm or she would collapse and if Isak was honest, so did he.

Eva suddenly startled, the solemnity on her face giving to raw fear and want. Isak followed her eyes across the field and saw Eva’s mother, Helene, standing there amongst the other elderly. They were the undesirables, the unnecessary.

Men milled around them, axes and swords drawn, eager to draw blood. When the men started to move and lead the group away, Isak knew why.

“No!” Eva screamed, startling them both. She tried to run, the tail of her hair flashing past Isak before he grabbed her by it, pulling her back into his chest. “Let me go!” she shrieked, her voice piercing with hysteria. “Let me go, Isak! Mama!” she sobbed, her body trembling with the force of it. Isak let her elbow him, knowing he would have bruises blossoming on his stomach by morning. He could take it, but he could not take Eva dying.

 _I’m sorry_ , he thought as Eva’s sobs began to shake his own body. _I’m so sorry._

Vilde held Eva’s other arm, holding her still and muttering quick words into her ear. Eva’s struggling did not stop and he could see the other men start to take notice. The last thing they wanted was their attention.

“Calm yourself. Do you want to die?” he said to her frantically, wanting her to understand the gravity of what was going on. These men weren’t childhood bullies she could push into the mud; they were savages who raped and plundered for sport. When Eva refused to go still, he continued.

“Do you want Vilde to die? Because that’s what will happen if you don’t stop making a spectacle of yourself. How long do you think she’ll last without you?” And that’s when Eva wilted against him, as the truth of his words was finally conveyed to her. There was no fight to be had here that they could win.

They watched the men push the elderly into the Hof, before barricading the door with a wooden plank. Isak prayed that this was the end, that they would leave the village now and have mercy on them.

The oldest of the men, presumably the leader, looked over at them, taking in the children wailing and the village burning behind them before he smiled sardonically and said, “Burn it. All of it.”

Eva wailed brokenly at his words, crumpling to the ground. “It’s okay,” Isak whispered to her, even though it was not. “We’re here. Vilde and I are right here.”

The men threw their torches onto the wooden base and slowly but surely, the flames begun to engulf their humble Hof, until it was just a red blot against the black sky.

It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t accompanied with the searing stench of burning flesh and the screaming of the poor souls trapped inside. But nothing beautiful like Helgafjell awaited them, all they had to look forward to was the destitute darkness of Hel.

Isak’s tears silently spilled from the corners of his eyes, freezing against his chilled skin almost instantly. He made no sound as he rocked Eva back against him; he did not deserve to cry right now. When his own mother had died she had been a silent surety for him, a calming force in the fog of his own anguish. He could do this for her. Beside them, Vilde retched at the smell, letting her head fall between her thighs as she inhaled and exhaled, her breaths harsh and quick.

Isak felt sure in that moment that there were no Gods he could worship anymore. What kind of Gods ignored the prayers of children and then permitted their parents to burn alive in the very place of worship they had dedicated to them?

“Well, now that this messy business is taken care of, it is time to deal with the matter of the thralls,” the leader announced.

The men began to gather in excitement at this.  They had been unbothered by the smell of burning people but they were clearly excited at the prospect of picking from the children like cattle.  They were monsters, the lot of them.  All the stories of the North men had been true.

Isak noticed Sara being hauled towards them from the corner of his eye, her body sagging in the arms of the brute he had seen dragging her last. Her hair was in disarray, her pretty face stained with tears.  A purple bruise spread from her temple to cheek. The man threw her to the ground where she fell without a sound. Isak would have thought she was dead if it were not for the steady rise and fall of her back.

“By the Gods, Bjørn. We have not even appraised them yet and you have already ruined one.”

“That one’s mine,” Bjørn said threateningly, gesturing at the mess of skirts and skinny limbs that was Sara.

“Well she is now, no one wants your leftovers,” someone remarked dryly, and there was widespread laughter, like Sara’s broken body was something to jest over. Isak longed to go to her but pure selfishness kept him frozen to the ground and hidden behind Eva.

“Have you ever lain with a man?” one of the men called out to Isak. They all laughed when he recoiled and gripped Eva tightly.

“She does not have what you need, boy,” another one bellowed. Isak hid his face in Eva’s shoulder when he begun to stick his hand in his breeches, presumably to show Isak what he _needed_.

“I want him,” Isak heard one of them say and he could not help himself from opening his eyes to get a glimpse of his possible owner.

He looked shockingly different from the rest.  He seemed too polished and handsome to be a pillager. Despite that, the hungry look in his eye was the same as the rest.

“Please, Christoffer, you’re not man enough for a thrall like that,” one of the men laughed, shoving him aside as the group laughed at his expense.

The handsome stranger, Christoffer, gave Isak a considering look before he laughed heartily. “I would not be able to afford him anyway.  You know my Father will not share his wealth with me.” The self-deprecating words didn’t seem to ring true.

“Enough of your foolish bartering,” the leader said gruffly. “First pick of thralls goes to the best warriors, and seeing as most of you weaklings failed to procure anything of worth in Northumbria, only a few of you get to stake your claim.  The rest can pay, or we take them to sell in Ranrike.”

“The only warrior who won any prize was Even,” Christoffer said favourably. “He should get first pick.”

“As if that monster would know what to do with one of these young things,” a man with pale hair and an ugly face said, laughing meanly.  The other men followed, their laughs slightly more uncertain now, as if the man they were mocking would show up at the sound of his name, like a phantom. “He has never had a thrall before. I doubt we could tempt him away from celibacy now.”

The man continued to smile at his own joke, his icy eyes assessing the crowd of youths before he caught Isak’s eye and abruptly stopped. Isak looked away quickly but the damage was already done.

“However this one might be able to do it,” he said softly, and then he crossed the field, taking long strides to where Isak, Eva, and Vilde were huddled in the dirt.

When he reached down and grabbed Isak’s arm roughly, tugging him upwards, Eva screamed, pulling Isak’s other arm until he was behind her again.

“You’re not taking him!” she yelled furiously, even as tears fell from her eyes.

The man backhanded Eva like she was a fly, and she fell to the ground like one. Isak froze at the sight of her crumpled body, and that was when Vilde started to scream.

He could not stop himself from panicking, the sound of Vilde crying in his ears, as he was dragged away from them both by the collar of his tunic. It seemed like a crude parallel to Sara who he had seen being dragged the same way only minutes before. He should have helped her then. Perhaps if he had, the Gods would have rewarded him for his courage.

In that moment he prayed to anyone that was listening, _Please help me._

The small glimpse of pale shoulder that was exposed from being dragged by his tunic made the men leer appreciatively; the sound of it made Isak’s skin crawl.

“Father, can I have him?” the man asked eagerly, an almost manic look in his eye. Isak felt like a toy, hanging in his grip by his night clothes.

“Even has never shown an inclination for thralls so I doubt he will mind.” The leader nodded. “He is yours, Nikolai.”

The men responded with raucousness to the announcement; they clapped Nikolai on the back and offered congratulations. Their comments on Isak soon followed.

“Check how tight he is.”

“You cannot just keep him to yourself Nikolai, you need to share.”

“Do you think he’s unmarked? Maybe you should check.”

Every obscene thing they said was worse than the last. Listening to what they wanted to do to him, Isak began to wish that he had burned to death in his bed.  It would surely have been a more merciful fate than this.

Nikolai laughed jovially at the comments, obviously enjoying the envy of his men.

“You’re right, Knut. I should check to see if he’s unmarked. You never know with these lowly farmer types. They were probably foolish enough to put a boy like this to work in the field.”

Isak felt a sob finally break in his chest when Nikolai grabbed the collar of his tunic and ripped the back down the middle, exposing him to the cold air and the hungry eyes of all.

“No.” Nikolai said amusedly, clearly taking pleasure in Isak’s fear. “I suppose they were not all fools. I’ve never seen such smooth skin.” And then he was trailing a finger down Isak’s back. He could hear the men whistling at the sight and it made him curl into himself.  “But if they did not put him to work in the field, maybe they had other uses for him?”

When Isak moved to hold what was left of his shirt to his chest, Nikolai grabbed his wrist roughly, leaving a ring of purple around it. All Isak could do was weep, but it did nothing to deter him.  In fact, it seemed to emboldened him more, as he moved lower, to pull Isak’s breeches down.  

He was halted suddenly by a voice that seemed to appear from nowhere.

“Let him go, Nikolai.”

Isak opened his eyes in terror at the new, deeper voice. A man loomed in front of them, and of all the men Isak had seen today, he was the most frightful one. He looked wild, like Fenrir himself, with his head and back shrouded in wolfskins. Isak knew it wasn’t the way of these men; the rest of them preferred bear skins and wore them proudly on their bodies. His obviously different furs seemed like a mark of outright rebellion. His face was blackened with ash and blood that stained his chin and his fur. It looked as though he’d eaten someone alive, like a beast feasting on flesh. Looking at him, Isak would not have been surprised if it was true.

“Even,” Nikolai chuckled, “I didn’t know a monster like you would care for the weeping of children. Or do you want to share him with me?”

Isak whimpered audibly at the word _share_ , and Even’s eyes filled with rage before the storm inside him quieted into a mask of calm indifference. Isak was not even sure if what he had seen was real or just fanciful desperation, looking for some kind of humanity in this beast. He had prayed for someone to help him and instead the Gods sent him this...abomination. Perhaps they were mocking Isak? Cursing him for his earlier silent denouncement of them as he had watched their Hof burning.

When Even did not react to the taunts, Nikolai laughed. It was a high note, irritated for the first time. “What business is it of the Berserker what I do to my thrall?” he hissed.

“ _Your_ thrall? Erik said the best warriors get first pick. How many men did you kill in Northumbria?”

Isak flinched when Nikolai let go of his shirt, in favour of pulling his sword from its sheath.

His father, Erik, did not let it get that far. Immediately he stepped between the two men, his face impassive.

“Put your sword away Nikolai. I did say the warrior who showed the most prowess in Northumbria would get first pick. That honour belongs to Even.”

Nikolai looked furious and even Isak had to wonder: who was this man that Erik favoured over his own son?

“I pick him,” the Berserker, _Even_ , said to Erik, but he only had eyes for Isak. Isak had to look away at the attention, the deep blue eyes of the other almost overwhelming in their intensity.

Both Nikolai and Erik looked surprised at his proclamation, but Erik hid it better. Nikolai, on the other hand, looked _furious_.

“You want him?” Nikolai asked snidely but Even did not react, his eyes fixed on Isak’s bare shoulders and back.

“That is what I said.”

Nikolai looked to his father for affirmation and the man nodded, causing his lip to curl into something bitter and ugly.

He pushed Isak away from him, sending him knocking into Even’s chest. Isak instinctively tried to move away but Even held him close easily, with one hand on his bare waist. Different from Nikolai, his hands were also bare and all the more calloused for it. Isak could feel the heat from them seep into his cool skin.

“Fine,” Nikolai spat. “Have your prize. He is far too skittish for my proclivities anyways.”

Isak shivered, glad he would not need to learn what Nikolai’s _proclivities_ were. Even looked down at him when he shook, eyes roaming over the expanse of pale skin that was revealed. Isak feared Even would want to continue what Nikolai had started but instead he reached over his shoulder, untying his cloak, and placing it around Isak’s shaking body. It smelt like rust and smoke, but it was the warmest thing Isak had, and it covered his body from the eyes of the men still focused on him, and so he drew it around his shoulders like a shield.

When Nikolai started to move, Even’s grip on his waist tightened, his battle hardened fingers digging into his waist as if he were afraid Nikolai would try to take him again.

Nikolai ignored them and instead strode over to Eva and Vilde, taking in Eva’s unconscious body. “She is beautiful,” he said flatly, like he was commenting on the weather. “And she has a spirit that will be fun to break.” Then he heaved her into his arms, and over his shoulder. Isak wanted her to wake up and scream, to kick and scratch at the vile man holding her, but she stayed frustratingly silent.

Eva’s new master then pointed to Vilde, who had not moved.  She remained on her knees as she stared up at Eva’s immobile form. “She is not ugly, William.”

Another man, William, walked over slowly before looking down at Vilde with consideration. He sighed like the entire ordeal was a chore, before he said, “You are mine then.” Isak half expected Vilde to start crying at the proclamation but she nodded and stood up on shaky doe legs.

After that, the sorting was quick. A few more men took their pick of the youths, with a few remaining unclaimed, until all that were left were babes and infants. Isak was afraid they would burn them too but the pillagers merely ignored them and started to collect their weapons, as if to leave.

“What’s going to happen to them?” Isak wondered aloud. He flinched once he realized what he had done. Even did not move to strike him, but one of his hands cupped Isak’s face until he was forced to look up at him.

“We do not kill babies. But we do not have use for them either.” Even said simply. _So they were to freeze to death_ , Isak thought with disgust. It must have shown in his expression because Even let his face go hastily. If Isak did not know better, he would say he looked ashamed.

“Hasten your pace, Hålogaland is calling,” Erik yelled, and the men agreed with levelled enthusiasm.

The babes began to cry as their mothers were forced to let them go, settling them on to the frost tipped grass, like that would protect them. One of the girls refused to leave her baby brother, clinging to him and screaming when she was dealt a brutal blow to her stomach before being pulled away. Isak did not let himself react, keeping his eyes fixed on Even’s chin so he would not cry. He prayed that their neighbouring village would find the infants and take them in. It was the only thought that comforted him.

With the thralls divided, the party begun to walk, heading for where the frozen land met the water.

Isak saw Vilde being led by William to the head of the crowd, but he quickly lost sight of her. He could see Eva hung limp over Nikolai’s shoulder but she didn’t wake, even under Nikolai’s jostling.

Unlike the other men who Isak could see dragging their thralls, Even led him with one large hand on his waist, pushing him forward until he stumbled. When he fell under the pressure, Even practically lifted him up and onto his feet. Isak eventually cried out, his leg twisting at being rushed, and Even’s insistence lessened.

“I have you,” he whispered in his deep voice, “I just need you to walk for me.”

Isak quickened his pace, taking the words as a warning. Who knew what this man would do to him if he did not walk. He was not going to let himself be knocked out like Eva and left vulnerable to the whims of any of these men.

After what felt like hours, the coast and the pillagers’ ship came into view. It looked monstrous sitting in the midst of the water that Isak had played in with Eva and Vilde for years prior, before it became forbidden for them to wander too far from their homes.   _The pillagers can come at any time_ they had been told.  It had been true, every word, but staying in their village had not protected them.

They began to wade into the water and he whimpered in fear as Even grabbed him suddenly and hoisted him upwards so no part of him was exposed to the freezing mass. They followed the hoard of scared children being ushered on to the ship, Even carrying him in his arms as though he was an infant.  Finally he was deposited on the ship, and Even followed.  

He saw some thralls being lead below deck, some being dragged away by their masters, and others starting to panic now that they were actually on the ship that would forever take them away from their home. The screaming and crying was horrible to listen to. Even seemed to agree because the hand on his waist pulled him closer and then away from the madness.

“Come,” he said sternly, leading Isak into an empty corner of the boat, away from all the ruckus. He sat down and Isak hesitated before he was pulled down into his arms, his chest to his back, The cloak wrapped around him provided some warmth but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Even’s body wrapped around his own.

“Do not listen,” he ordered before pulling his cloak over Isak’s head. Hidden against Even’s chest, under the shroud of his cloak, it was almost quiet.

But the screaming and crying inevitably grew louder as more people boarded. Isak could hear Sara calling out again, this time pleading for someone to stop. Isak started to cry at the sound and he tried to muffle it with his hands but Even heard. Through his cloak, he covered Isak’s ears with his hands.

“Do not listen,” he repeated.

For once, Isak obeyed. Instead he focused on the steady beat of Even’s heart under his ear and the sound of crashing water as the boat disembarked, leaving his childhood home behind in a mess of smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Murder, Implied Rape/Non-con (Off screen), Attempted Rape/Non-con
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Valkyries - Valkyries were maidens who served the god Odin and were sent by him to the battlefields to choose the slain who were worthy of a place in Valhalla.
> 
> Hel - Helheim was possibly the worst outcome for a Norse person in the afterlife. Helheim was cold and dark, ruled by the Goddess Hel, it was reserved for those Norse folk who died in a dishonourable way. This could be from laziness, old age, for example to die in your bed.
> 
> Helgafjell - Helgafjell was known as the ‘holy mountain’, and was widely thought of as a rather nice place to live out the afterlife. Helgafjell was somewhere you could go if you did not die in battle, but you would have had to have lived what is considered a good life.


	3. Slaves And The Civilised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak discovers his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing response to the previous chapter! We really are so humbled by the amount of positive feedback we've received for the start of the fic and we hope you stay with us as we take you on this long, sprawling journey with us.
> 
> There was some debate in the previous chapter's comments around the subject of non-con and we'd just like to request that you entrust us to deal with this sensitively and realistically. Yes, sexual violence will absolutely be a theme throughout this fic, and we will not shy away from it. All the thralls will be affected by the attitudes of the time towards them. But this theme is part of a much bigger picture and hopefully as the fic progresses, the picture will become a bit clearer!
> 
> As always, we look forward to your comments and thoughts. If you'd like to talk to us on Twitter about the fic, come @ us on DiscoNight_01 and karlymarxx <3
> 
> Oh, and finally: music is really important to both of us when writing, and each chapter we post will have a thematic song with the clickable link so you can listen while you read if you like. ;-) 
> 
> Please click the link below to be taken to the warnings for this chapter.

**Chapter 2 - Slaves and the Civilised**

_To the great and the petrified_

_We all fall down_

_To the slaves and the civilised_

_We all fall down_

[The Great Shipwreck of Life, IAMX](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IpbKo1wLDk)

 

**Isak**

The freezing winds of the North roared to greet them ahead of their arrival, and with them Isak’s despair grew.  The longboat was tossed mercilessly against the waves and Isak pressed himself deeper into Even’s wolfskins, his stomach flipping with nausea.

He was not the only one.  All around him was the stink of vomit and urine and blood despite the crispness of the sea air.  Below deck, where many of the villagers had been left to fend for themselves, he was certain it would be much worse.  He wondered, with a numbness in his heart, whether Vilde and Eva had lasted the journey.  They had thrown bodies overboard but Even had not allowed him to watch; he had pressed Isak into his chest and Isak had chosen the coward’s route of following his silent instruction.  

This much he knew: there had been no ceremony, no sense of occasion. The dead were useless to these men, and so they threw them overboard like fish gone foul.

Isak did not remember much about reaching the land in the North which the pillagers called _Hålogaland_ .  His new home.  He stayed buried within Even’s wolfskins, and the eternal darkness in these desolate waters took care of the rest.  The screams and cries of his fellow villagers - the _thralls_ , as he would have to think of them now - had finally died out after days of sobs and screams and whimpers.  And yet Isak still felt the need to hide himself.

And his new owner seemed happy for him to stay this way.  Perhaps he was a jealous man who preferred to keep his property away from the prying eyes of others or perhaps he simply did not trust Isak.  The times on the ship when he had needed to ease away from him in order to take his turn at the oars had proven difficult for the both of them.  Even as he had rowed, the one they called _Berserker_ kept his head turned towards Isak the entire time.  If a man came too close to his new thrall, Even would level them with a ferociously angry gaze until they trod elsewhere.  For Isak’s part, he felt lost without the warm mass of solid chest pressed into his back, and the sound of the beating heart within.

“The North!” the leader, Erik, crowed to them as the ship was brought into port.  There was a cheer of relief from the pillagers, and no sound at all from the thralls.

They were fewer in number than when they had left their village.  It was not just because of the dead.  In the place they called Ranrike, a bustling port town, a selected group of pillagers had taken some of the thralls from below deck.  One or two fought but were quickly subdued with punches and kicks.  Then they had been put into bondage: crude ropes and steel shackles for the most troublesome.

These thralls had been kept alive in Jutland only for material gain: they were sellable, but not desirable to these savages of the North who appeared to have specific requirements.  The thralls that had been left were young and healthy and, Isak now knew, considered to be beautiful.  They were mainly girls of Isak’s age, and a much smaller number of boys.

“Can you walk?” Even asked him.  Isak nodded, his mind coming back to the present, to the situation at hand.  He felt Even grip his arm as he stood up and he tried not to cower when he saw another man come close.

“Days at sea and he has yet to gain his sea legs? You should have fucked him boneless.”

Isak yelped with surprise when Even drew a long, jagged dagger and extended his arm towards the man’s chest.

“Unlike you, Bjørn, I believe there are some things a man should keep within the homestead.  Now.  Be on your way.”

Isak felt himself tremble as Even drew him close again.   _Within the homestead_.  The word was not familiar in Isak’s tongue but he understood _home_ well enough.  He supposed this was where Even was taking him now. To… _fuck him boneless_.

He shuddered as Even huffed with irritation at his slowness to disembark.  Mistaking it for unease at walking on the sea vessel, he hauled Isak up into his arms.  Isak kept his eyes closed, his face pressed into the fur of Even’s cloak.  Though it belonged to this man, his soon to be rapist, there was a comfort to the smell and matted softness of it that Isak had clung to these past few days, and he was unable to separate himself from that feeling now.

The relentless sobbing that had plagued the boat for so much of the journey resumed once more, then he heard the sound of someone being backhanded, and ragged whimpers.   _Open your eyes_ , he told himself. _Look for Eva and Vilde_.

But Even shifted Isak in his arms, so his face pressed into his chest, and there he stayed for the last part of their journey.

 

* * *

 

Isak was asleep by the time they reached Even’s home. He remembered nothing of the village they must have passed through on the way: not the distance, or the noise or the location of Even’s dwelling.

But when he awoke, to find Even setting him down on a bed roll, he looked to find that this was nothing like the hut he had lived in all his life.  The room he was in was small and sparsely decorated, even by the standards of the humble settlement Isak had come from, and he was surprised by this.  He had expected more from a pillager.

He squinted against the dim light of the candle.  There was no place to prepare food, no place to sit but for a small, carved wooden chair by the door frame, through which he could see more inside space illuminated.  Eventually it dawned on Isak that this was but one room of the dwelling.  And as Isak was a mere thrall, and this room was presumably where he was expected to sleep, he could only imagine how grand the rest of the hut… no, the rest of the _homestead_ was.

Even the bed roll was strange to him; there was a frame and what felt like soft cushioning when he pressed his body into it.  A folded blanket rested near his feet.  Without thinking he reached across to press his hand into it, marvelling at its thickness, and then he snapped it back when he realised Even was watching him.

“It is fine to touch it,” Even said to him.  “I hope it is warm enough for you.  I can always bring another if not.”

Was this a cruel joke?  A test? Isak expected to find himself out with the cattle, shivering against the winds of the North. He looked at Even questioningly and then dropped his gaze.  

 _You must not look him in the eye_ , he told himself.   _He does not see you as his equal_.

“You will be tired from the journey,” Even continued.  Isak remained rigid with fear.  “Sea travel is always wearisome for those not used to it.”  Isak felt him staring, almost as though he expected a response, but Isak’s mind was blank with fear.  “Is there anything you need before you sleep?  Water, perhaps?  You drank on the ship, but the salt from the sea will take the spit from your mouth.”

Isak tried to answer but no sound came.  He felt Even come close to him and blood roared in his ears.  This was it, he thought.  This was where he would be _taken_ for the first time.

But Even simply straightened up to his full, impressive height, and told him, “Sleep,” and then Isak was left alone in the room.

 _This is a monster_ , Isak thought to himself.   _He will take you when you are sleeping, when you are dreaming of home.  He will wake you up by pushing himself into you, unexpected and unprepared. He will not even afford you the dignity of knowing when it will happen._

Isak staggered to the door frame, drunk from fear, and looked out to the next room. It was much larger; Isak soon it was the central hub of the home, with counters to prepare food, stripped  chairs to sit on, a table to eat at, and a firepit in the centre of the room, not yet lit. All around were tapestries, wood carvings, and artefacts Isak had no knowledge of. Lamps burned bright everywhere, casting light and shadows all around. Even the floors were decadence such as he had never known; wood and flagstone as opposed to the dirt floor that Isak was accustomed to.

And in the centre of this strange new world stood the Berserker, his back to Isak as he hauled wood onto the firepit.

Isak regarded him for a moment, taking in his height, his broad shoulders and large hands, and the clear strength within his deceptively lean frame, evident now he had shirked his wolfskins.

He would be able to subdue Isak with a grip of his hand.  This was a man of the North, as savage as the environment which had moulded him into who he was.  There was no fight to be won, and Isak would have to accept whatever was to happen to him this night.  At best, he could hope to avoid a brutal beating if he acquiesced, and played along prettily.

He looked down at the filthy clothes he was wearing; the bedclothes he had been in when he had been ripped from sleep in Jutland days before.  He wondered if his new master would prefer to find him naked when he came to him tonight.

He took them from his body, shuddering against the cold, and then eased himself into the bed roll.  The softness was a mockery to him, and as soon as his body was under the cover, he began to weep silently.  There was a pounding in his heart that did not abate for some time.  

He thought of Eva, and of Vilde, and where they might be; whether they were even still alive.  He thought of the burning _hof_ , the children who had been left to perish if nobody came to help them, and those that had been sold on their journey here.  He thought of the greenness of his home and the routines he knew so well.  And with each of these thoughts, the tears became greater and he wished in that moment for death.

When the Berserker came for him tonight, he knew that he would wish all the harder for it.

 

* * *

 

And yet somehow, he managed to sleep, to rest, to recover.  When he awoke, it was not to a brute thrusting into him.  It was to a feeling of warmth and comfort such as he had never known before, and a sense of well-restedness that was unfamiliar to him.

He blinked and looked around the room.  There was a high window in the room to let in light, but this was the land of eternal darkness that a traveller through their village had once told him about, where Sól abandoned the North due to their depraved ways once the cold took them.  He had no way of knowing how long he had slept for, but from the contentment of his previously aching limbs, he guessed it was many hours.

Next to his bed, a clay jug and cup had been placed on a small table.  Isak looked at it for a moment, and only a moment, before pouring himself a cupful and drinking thirstily.  Then he poured another, and another, until the scratchiness from his throat had abated.

He looked again at the room and saw clothes placed beside his bed.  Simple leggings, an undershirt and tunic, but far better quality than anything he had worn at home.  He tentatively slipped out from underneath his covers, looked warily to the door to find nobody standing there, and only then pulled the clothes over his naked form.  They were far too big and hung off him, but his body was no longer exposed and he was grateful for it.

Outside the room he heard movement; the banging of utensils and footsteps against the ground.   The air was thick with the smell of stew, and it seemed to awaken something within him; his stomach squirmed painfully and he realised how hungry he was.

 _The food will not be for you_ , he chided himself. _Stop being foolish_.

There was nothing left to do but make his master aware he was now awake.  And so he quetly left the room he had slept in and waited for Even to turn from where he stood at the fire, stirring the pot that hung over it.  Upon seeing Isak he started slightly, and then tilted his head towards the long wooden table.

“You can sit.”

Isak nodded and took a seat on one of the stools, perching himself noncommittally so he could move in a moment if Even required him to do so.  But Even simply ignored him and Isak felt himself grow embarrassed as the older man continued to defy his expectations.  Isak felt himself wound tightly, ready to recoil with a more urgent fear when Even finally acted as a man of the North surely did.

“Here,” Even said, placing a bowl in front of him.  “You need to eat.”

Isak blinked and looked down at it.  It was a thick stew; even to smell it, Isak knew it was well seasoned and surely flavoursome.  Beside the bowl, Even placed a thick crust of bread.  Isak almost cried with happiness when he looked at it.  He was starving, to the very pit of his stomach which was rumbling insistently, and it seemed he was _allowed_ to eat this.

But Even had given him no utensil to scoop it with.  Isak swallowed in fear, waiting to see if he would supply him with any.  Instead, he simply took a seat at the other end of the table and watched Isak contemplatively.

Isak took the piece of bread with one trembling hand and allowed himself a bite, and then several more bites, savouring the flavour each time before swallowing.  Once or twice he swiped it into the stew, allowing the stock to sink into the bread before chewing delicately.  He did not wish to make a mess. As Isak ate, Even regarded him with such a level of intensity that it became clear he was looking for something.

Eventually the bread was gone, and an almost full bowl of stew remained.  Isak regarded it wistfully and the action seemed to puzzle Even who looked at him with a quizzical expression.

“You do not like it?”

“I…” Isak felt his cheeks burning.  He had no idea what Even expected of him.  He could plainly see there was nothing to eat with.  “It is delicious.  I… I do not have much of an appetite.”

Even leaned forward suddenly and for the first time Isak allowed himself to look at his face properly.  He was surprised to realise that he was very handsome, and more youthful than he had anticipated, though his face carried the marks of battle.  In the bright lamplight, Isak saw his eyes flickered blue like the oceans surrounding Jutland and he felt a wave of pain at this realization.

“You have not been fed well in many days.  You must eat.”

“I do not -”

“It is an order,” Even informed him simply.

“There is nothing to eat with,” Isak whispered.

He braced himself for the first blow as Even slid back on his stool.  Instead, Even cleared his throat and said, “Come here. Bring the bowl.”

Isak stared at him with wide eyes, entirely forgetting his discretion for a moment.  He picked up the bowl, trying to steady his hands as he did so, and walked towards Even.  His mind reeled with possibilities as to how Even would punish his insolence, and sure enough Even reached out with his hands and pulled him in by the waist.  Here, he could easily bend Isak over the table if he wanted, and Isak readied himself for it.

But instead, Even pulled him up into his lap and took the bowl from him.  “I do not know how you eat in Jutland, but in the North we use our hands,” he said.  He took a handful from the bowl and put it in his own mouth.  The stock, though thick, dripped from his fingers and Isak stared stupidly at the sight of it, trying not to wrinkle his nose up.

“Here,” he said, and pressed some meat to Isak’s lips. Isak parted them and allowed himself to be fed like a child.  But he found no attempt at humiliation in the gesture, and so he allowed Even to press food into his mouth, his fingers brushing Isak’s lips, until the bowl was empty, save for the oils and stock that had pooled at the bottom.  Even pressed the rim to Isak’s lips and tilted, and some of the liquid ran down the sides of his mouth as the rest slid down his throat.  Isak pulled away, embarrassed by his sloppiness, but before he could turn his head, Even had gripped his jawline and swiped his fingers over the liquid, removing it from Isak’s mouth and chin.

“You are a very… neat eater,” Even told him, and Isak caught a ghost of a smile before he looked back down to his hands, trying not to blush. In truth, Eva and Vilde had often teased him for his messy eating habits, which he had picked up from his mother. He had been trying not to show this in front of Even, and he was relieved he had commented favourably.

And then he remembered to be disgusted with himself.  He had watched his village burn; people he knew well, who he had spoken to every day, had died at the hands of this man and his fellow… _savages_. And here Isak was, pressed into his lap, accepting his compliments like an eager-to-please dog.

He kept his his eyes cast downwards and waited to be released. He _wanted_ to move away, despite the now-familiar warmth of Even’s chest. As his body went still and rigid, Even cleared his throat and slid his chair out from underneath the table.  His arms went to his side and Isak assumed this meant he was allowed to climb off.

And so he did.

He stood now, his eyes trained to the floor, and Even seemed to contemplate him for a few moments before speaking. “I suppose you need to know about your duties.”

Isak braced himself for the mention of Even’s bed.

“I expect you to keep the home liveable.  I do not expect you to do anything outside, in fact I forbid it.  Your main job will be to cook for me.”

Isak waited for more, but Even stopped speaking for a long time.  Finally, he asked Isak, “Do you have any questions?”

Bewildered, he looked up at that.  Even was staring at him with those sparkling blue eyes and he almost faltered.  “I… _questions_?”

“About any of these tasks?  Are they too much?”

 _Too much?_  

He had to stop himself from repeating the words back again.

“No… they are… most kind.”

“Good,” Even said.  “I… well, I have not had a thrall in many years.  I have never owned one personally, though my parents had some when I was young.”  He paused.  “So I am very self-sufficient here.”

“But you took me?” Isak asked, immediately stilling his tongue when he realised he was questioning his new master.  But Even did not respond angrily to this.  He only gave a small hum of contemplation.

“I thought it was time.”

There was a long, pregnant pause and then Even looked at him questioningly.  “You know how to cook, yes?”

Isak nodded.  Truthfully, he had little experience.  Though he had cared for his mother for many years, for as long as he had known how to, and then cared for himself after she had died, he had daily been provided with food from kindly, well meaning villagers.  On the rare occasions he had cooked for himself it had been bland and tasteless, and fish had been far more common than game in the settlement he had lived in.

He had never eaten anything as good as the meal Even had just fed to him.  If this was the expectation Even had of him, he was not sure how he would fulfil it.

“Good.  I will provide you with the meat, of course, and the vegetables and seasoning that are sold on the market.”

“I… I will try my best, master.”

It was the first time he had said _master_ out loud, but Even looked at him strangely.

“I do not understand this word? _Master?_ Maybe it is not the same here.”

“Oh.”  Isak found his heart beating faster.  Would Even think he had insulted him?  “I-”

“It does not matter.  I would prefer for you to call me Even.  Perhaps in public you can address me with my title which is _Jarl_ Even.”

The word meant nothing to Isak but he nodded.

“And perhaps you could tell me your name now?”

Isak blinked.  He had not even considered a situation where his name would be asked.  He was a thrall now, and thralls did not need to be distinguished from one another.  This much he knew.  But Even had asked him, and so he answered, “My name is Isak.”

“Isak?”  Even said the name softly and yet Isak flinched at the sound of it.  It was a small, personal piece of himself that he had expected to burn away with the rest of his village.  “A pretty name.”

“Thank you,” Isak replied, unsure if Even was mocking him.

“You slept well, Isak?”

“I… yes, Even.  The bed was,” he tried to think of the word but his mind went blank. “It was… most...”

“Comfortable?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling slightly in relief.  “It was comfortable.”

“I am glad,” Even said, and again he looked at Isak with that strange intensity which seemed so ill-matched to the ugly capabilities of this man.

Even gestured for him to sit down again on the stool and Isak moved himself into place.  Nothing was as he had expected and he realised he would have to work hard not to become complacent around Even.  No matter how amenable he seemed in this moment, he was a killer; the other men, killers themselves, had seemed to fear him despite his loyalties to them.  He was not to be trusted.  And yet… Isak could not understand how a man called the _Berserker_ had eyes that glistened like the sea.

“Do you have any questions about the way of life here?”

 _The way of life_ , Isak repeated back to himself.   _I know the way of life here.  It is savagery and black magic and eternal nights and trolls who steal sleeping babes from their mother’s arms._

“No.”  He swallowed in fear and then shook his head. “Sorry, yes.  I… actually… I have one.”

Even nodded to indicate Isak should speak.

“My friends… Eva and Vilde.  Did… did they survive the journey, do you know?”

“The flame-haired girl?  And the pretty, fair girl she was with at your settlement?”

Isak bit his lip but nodded.

“Yes, I saw them being taken from the ship by their new owners.  They were alive.”

Isak felt some tension leave his chest.   _They were alive._  His friends were still alive.  Though… perhaps he would do best not to regard them as friends anymore.  He did not know how often he would see them, if at all, or whether it would displease their masters to see them talking to one another as friends might.

Friends were a luxury that free people were privileged to have. He was not a free person anymore.  He could no longer assume that right, and the thought made him tense up again.  There was so much to accept here. So much to become accustomed to.

“The fair-haired girl is fortunate.  William is… non-demonstrative.  He will not be cruel to her unless she is insolent.”

Good.  Vilde was the least _insolent_ person Isak knew.  Eva and he had often teased her for her optimism and sweet nature.

“And Eva?” Isak asked, though he knew the answer.  She had been taken by the blond-haired man that had attempted to strip Isak, that had leered at him and showed him off to his men as though he was prize cattle.  The man that had struck Eva to the floor with one cruel blow.  The man with _proclivities._

“Nikolai is… different to his brother William.  He will rape her and beat her.  But you need not concern yourself.  He will not touch you.” Even’s voice became flint-like as he proclaimed this, but he did not seem to understand Isak’s concern.  Eva was a person, a girl that burned bright like fire, who had protected Isak all her life, and now she had a cruel master who would subject her to the worst conceivable type of ordeal.

And Even had told him this as though it was insignificant.  As though _she_ was insignificant.

 _But she_ is _insignificant.  She is nobody to him_ , Isak told himself fiercely.   _And neither are you, not really._

And with that fierceness, and that realisation, Isak found tears at his eyes.  He had allowed himself to believe, for a few moments, that maybe this man was not a monster.  Because he had fed him and given him clothes and not talked about _raping_ him, as he surely would at some point. Because he had pretty blue eyes that reminded Isak of home.

Isak had let himself be at peace as he had spoken to him.  He had granted himself a temporary reprieve when he should have stayed alert.

Even stared at him in confusion and asked, “What is wrong?” but Isak only grew more distressed.  Eva was under the instruction of a cruel master, and so was he, but Even was cruel in another way.  He did not wear it as a badge of honour but struck with it almost carelessly, like an adder recoiled.

His master stood from his stool and moved towards him, and Isak flinched away.   _Please do not touch me_ , he thought, praying to every single one of his Gods that they might listen. But then he remembered, the Gods had already abandoned him. No one was listening to his prayers.

“You… you do not need to be sad,” Even told him, his words faltering.  “I will not-”  He once again moved to Isak, and Isak jumped, pressing himself against a beam and shaking his head as he continued to cry.

Even stared at him and his face twisted into frustration.  He turned heel and walked out of the entrance to the house, his footsteps heavy with anger.

There was no comfort to be found within this place.  There was nobody here to hold him and tell him he was safe.  And so Isak cried until there were simply no more tears left to shed, but the feeling of dread remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: General distress at the threat of the rape
> 
> Terms: 
> 
> Jarl - Viking tribes had clear hierarchies, with Jarls at the top of the hierarchy in terms of wealth and status. The next level was Karl, which was a more generic title for free men. Thralls were placed at the bottom of the hierarchy.


	4. Deep End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kind and critical comments from the last chapter! Some people had issues with our characterization and I'd just like to say: Please have faith in us as authors. We have planned every single character arc down to the epilogue. Nothing is incidental and as we continue to reveal more about the characters moving forward I hope that becomes clear!
> 
> We still love to hear criticism from you guys because it shows that you truly care about our work. :)
> 
> If you want to talk you can reach us both on twitter @karlymarxx and @DiscoNight_01.
> 
> Trigger warnings are in the end note as usual. Please click below to be taken to the end note. The triggers do contain spoilers.

**Chapter 3 - Deep End**

_I'm slipping into the deep end_

_I'm in over my head_

_I can't catch my breath_

_I'm slipping into the deep end_

_Feel the current within_

_I can't help, I give in_

[Deep End, Ruelle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e5LUNziIMrA)

 

**Isak**

Without Even there, the homestead somehow seemed more ominous, like a vast fortress in the seemingly endless sea of black.

After his tears had dried, Isak sat in the empty doorway for hours before he realized that his new master wasn’t returning any time soon. He prayed that when he did, he would be merciful with his punishment; although Isak knew that prayers had no power anymore. Still, they were all he had. He had never been punished, whipped, like Eva and Vilde were as children. His mother had been too afflicted to be much of a disciplinarian. The one time she _had_ lashed out at him had been awful, but it was a singular act in the midst of a quiet childhood. He knew that made him weak; the unmarked pale of his back that Nikolai had been ogling was proof of that.

Isak felt pebbles rise on his skin, first at the draftiness of the large homestead and then at the thought of Even’s impending punishment for his insolent behaviour.

Would he whip him?

Would he cut him?

Would Isak be able to hold in his screams?

The thought made Isak shudder with terror, his shoulders quaking with the force of it. He was ashamed of his own fear but he had always been logical of mind, unlike Eva who thought with her heart first. He wouldn’t survive a beating from a North man. He needed to do something, anything, to temper his rage.

To distract himself, Isak picked up the stray clay bowls from the table, and washed them in the cooling water basin. He ripped his night clothes to fashion a rag to wipe down the table and then the cutlery before settling back onto his knees facing the doorway, like a good thrall, eager to please.

The longer he sat there, though, the more the pressure of his own fear weighed down on him, like an anvil. There was no end to this waiting. He cursed his own submission. _The Berserker_ was going to whip him bloody regardless of what Isak did. so why should he wait here, curled up on the floor like a pretty doll?

Feeling foolish, but empowered by Even’s absence, Isak allowed his resolve to explore the homestead to materialize. The oil lamp Even had lit for their first meal was still burning, albeit dully, so Isak picked it up carefully before embarking down the long hallway. He’d never had a luxury like a lamp back in the village so he soaked up the light greedily.

The glow illuminated the many doorways and the mottled eggshell white of the walls. Isak let his fingertips skim against them as he walked. It seemed that there were infinite rooms in the homestead; small ones, even smaller than Isak’s, and large empty ones with roughly hewn floors and no furniture.

The largest one, at the end of the hall, had a magnificent door that was engraved with elaborate runes that Isak couldn’t hope to understand. He had the eyes to appreciate their beauty so he let his fingers trace over the symbols in admiration. Resentment seared through him in that moment: how was it that a man such as Even, a monster who took lives and threw whole communities into chaos and disarray, had been favoured by the Gods in such a way, to live in a place such as this?

His slight touch against the door pushed it open, which startled him. No one was here, he reminded himself and then he took a deep breath before entering. Unlike the rest of the house, the walls were brown, with splotches cracked from age spread across the corners. Regardless, it was a grand room. In the centre, there was a large four poster bed and a white cotton canopy. Isak pulled it aside in awe. Four people could fit on this one bed and Even had it sitting here, obviously unused considering the layer of dust covering it. Isak remembered being forced to share a bed roll with his mother when he was very young, before she could afford him a new one. This level of excess was unfathomable to him.

On the edge of the bed was a quilt, the only thing with colour in the room. Isak delicately unfolded it to reveal a vibrant patchwork of blue and red fabric; it was beautiful.

This large room, more than the already large house, was chilled from the cold air outside that seeped through the roughly fashioned windows. Hesitant at first, Isak wrapped the quilt around him like a cloak before leaving. Isak was comforted by the layer of dust on everything in the homestead. Even wouldn’t even notice that Isak had...reappropriated it. What was one blanket to a man who wasted luxury every day?

He had just settled in front of the fireplace, the quilt wrapped around his shoulders when the door slammed open, bringing in a whirl of sleet, cold air, and _Even_.

He looked like a monster, wrapped in his wolfskins, until he removed them to reveal that deceptively young and handsome face. Isak wasn’t fooled, and he was proven right when Even took him in and fixed him with a dark look.

“Where did you get that?” Even asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Isak immediately allowed himself to drop to the ground, his shoulders shaking. He was ashamed and angry at himself for not being brave. _Like Eva had been_ , he thought. But a darker part of his mind whispered, _But look at what happened to her_. The resounding sound of Even’s boots coming towards him made him tremble more, until the offending quilt fell from his body, to his feet.

He yelped, in fear more than pain, when Even grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him up and off, the ground.

“Never grovel like that with me again.” Even said vehemently, “It’s not your place.” Isak felt confused. It was exactly his place, Isak was a thrall and Even was his master. Still, he nodded, his body trembling from the point where Even’s large hand was gripping his upper arm. Even’s perceptive eyes scanned his body before frowning, his hand falling from Isak’s arm to the curve of his hip. Isak tensed until he noticed that Even was reaching for the torn edge of his tunic.

“Why did you do this?” he asked, fingering the ragged fabric.

“To clean.” Isak answered helplessly, unsure if he would be punished for admitting this. Everything about Even’s actions lacked surety. It was disconcerting after living a life that was based on the predictable.

“Do not rip your clothing to make rags, they are meant for you to wear.” He said this particularly harshly and Isak could only assume it was because Isak had ripped his property.

Isak nodded, his head bowed.

“Go to sleep, Isak.” Even said, his voice softer now, and then he ran a large hand through Isak’s golden curls before stepping away, the quilt in his other hand. Isak longed to ask for it back, and for a moment he considered it. He found himself growing frustrated with Even’s unpredictability. A dark thought took him: he would be happier to be beaten, to be shown his place, than he was in this constant state of uncertainty.

But he said nothing. He retreated to his bed and slept, his arms wrapped around him for warmth.

 

* * *

 

When he woke, it was to the feeling of soft, worn cotton around his shoulders, and undeniable heat. He shrugged off his beddings, to wipe sweat from his overheated brow.

Looking down blearily at the sheets he had just thrown off, It took a moment for his sleep addled mind to discern that they were a colourful array of blue and red. It was the quilt Even had taken from him the night prior.

Isak picked it up, delicately wrapping it back around his sleep damp shoulders.

Even must have come back and tucked him under the quilt while he was sleeping. The thought of him coming into his room while he was vulnerable and lost to sleep was frightening.

Still, what purpose did giving Isak this quilt serve? _It could be a sick game_ , he thought bitterly. Offer the thrall a reward in exchange for obedience, coax him into a happy submission so he did not protest when his benevolent master choose to take him. Isak would not be foolish enough to fall for this act. _I will stay alert_ , he promised himself. He considered leaving the quilt on the floor as a clear rejection, but instead kept in on his shoulders. His need for comfort was stronger.

As he left his bedroom, Isak could smell the tantalizing aroma of meat and fresh bread. He had to catch himself from walking too quickly. Just because Even had fed him yesterday, there was no guarantee he would be afforded the same luxury today.

Isak saw the back of Even’s large form, hovering over a pot, as he approached tentatively. Eva had always chastised him for being a lazy brat, before she took over and did his chores regardless, but he did not think he would be lazy enough to sleep in the first morning of his new duties.

Isak jumped when Even abruptly spun around when he became aware of Isak’s presence.

“Good morning.” Even said stiffly, staring down at Isak with his piercing eyes. For the first time since Isak had met him, his sandy blonde hair was pushed back and away from his brow, his blue eyes and his handsome face bare to Isak’s eyes for the first time.

Isak looked away quickly. _A handsome face does not mean a good heart_ , he reminded himself. He longed to strike him along his strong jaw, and make him feel just for a moment a sliver of the bitterness he was feeling, but he did not yet wish for death and so he said instead, “Good morning.” He waited for Even to do something, perhaps bend him over the table to beat him for his transgression the night before, but he walked past Isak coolly, clay bowls in hand.

Isak watched him set the two bowls down and fill them with broth from the pot. He did not dare move until Even raised a questioning eyebrow at him and said, “What are you waiting for? Sit down and eat. You are the only other person in the homestead and I have two bowls.” Isak was confused by his light tone and his quick words but then he realized, _Oh, Even was teasing him._

Isak didn’t know what to make of it so he sat down quickly, jostling the table. Even did not seem to notice, too busy dipping long fingers into the stock of his broth and pulling meat from bone.

“I’m sorry for exploring the homestead without your permission mas- _Even_.” Isak said, catching himself. He still wasn’t used to the ways of North Men.

Even seemed unbothered by Isak’s slip of tongue, as he brought meat to his mouth quickly before tearing into it. Isak thought Even had been teasing him yesterday for being sloppy, but now he knew that to Even, anyone would have been neat.

“Do not be sorry.” Even said simply, “I left you alone for hours, It is only natural that you went wandering.”

 _Was he meant to agree?_ Isak wasn’t sure so he stayed silent, confused now that his apology had been rebuffed.

When Even finished he looked at Isak considerably and that’s when Isak realized he had not touched his own bowl. He reached down and tore his meat from bone before bringing it to his lips. He tried not to grimace at the way the oil trickled down his chin but Even seemed satisfied at the sight of it.

“I will be resuming my duties today so I will be out most of the day. I made first meal but second meal is your responsibility.”

Isak nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on his bowl submissively. Cooking, he could do, albeit poorly. There was a pause before Even continued.

“I want to remind you, you are not to leave the homestead, not even to walk the grounds.”

Isak remembered the instruction the day prior but he thought it had been the order of a man worried of his prize running away. However, Isak was no prize and even more than that, there was no place for him to run. Only a fool would dare attempt it.

He felt himself frown with confusion. He had seen how vast and empty the grounds surrounding Even’s home were from the open windows. It was open and perfect for planting, come spring. He could not see reason for Even’s order and his annoyance must have shown on his face. He had never been able to hide his feelings.

“Isak.” Even grabbed his chin gently, but Isak could not stop himself from flinching. Even looked agitated at the motion and Isak feared he would be struck, but Even’s face seemed to soften when their eyes met.

“You are forbidden from leaving the homestead, that is an order. My outburst last night was...uncalled for. The homestead is your home now too and you are free to explore it at your behest. But not the grounds.”

The homestead was his home too? The homestead was a prison, Isak wanted to spit out, but he bit his tongue.

When Even continued to hold his eye, Isak realized he was waiting for an answer, as if his ownership over Isak was not enough to command obedience.

“Yes, Even.” he answered quietly. Only then did Even release his face, allowing Isak to lower his eyes to the safe view of his own lap. Looking into Even’s eyes was a dangerous affair. It made his heart race and his palms sweat with fear, but also from something he could not quite name.

Isak ate slowly, conscious of the slick oil on his lips and the salted meat on his tongue. Even sat across him the entire time, eyes trained on Isak’s mouth until the last slip of meat disappeared. Now seemingly satisfied in some odd way, Even stood, wrapping his wolf skins around him like armour before heading for the door. His eyes lingered on Isak for a long moment before he was gone, wooden door banging behind him.

As soon as he left, Isak felt himself relax from the tension he was not aware he was carrying. His reprieve was short lived when he stomach curdled with sickness from his meal. It was rich. Far too rich for a farmer like himself who was used to simple fare like cabbage and fish. Breakfast has generally been bread and honey and dried fruit. Though he had often complained about the repetitive nature of the food he had eaten, right now all he longed for was the familiar taste of fresh watercress instead of the tangy saltiness of game. He thought of the wide empty land outside Even’s homestead. The earth was dead, frozen under layers of snow and ice. It was lifeless compared to the plains of Jutland, but would life grow there in the summer? Isak itched to find out.

Even told him the homestead was his to explore so Isak explored. He turned over every empty pot and vase, curling his hands into stone jars, until finally he found a few old seeds. Rolling them between his fingers he was sure they were for radishes. It was foolish but they reminded him of home.

It was too cold outside to plant anything now. But in the summer it would be perfect. Isak longed to go outside to look for fertile land but Even’s command stopped him for a moment.

 _It is not as if Even will know if I leave the homestead_ , Isak convinced himself, petulantly. _The Berserker_ seemed entirely uninterested in Isak as long as he was not getting in his way or touching his belongings.

So, Isak fashioned himself a thin cloak using the cloth Even had used to cover the table. And after a moment, he slid on Even’s clearly old and discarded bearskins. He now seemed to solely prefer the wolfskin. They felt heavy on Isak’s slender shoulders but he knew he would be all the more glad for it once he was outside on the cold plains of Hålogaland.

He allowed himself to inhale one last gulp of warm air before he pushed open the wooden door and stepped outside.

The earth was stiff under his feet and was grounding in its obvious death. The strong gust of wind that whipped at his ruddy cheeks, painting them pink, was the opposite of grounding. Isak shivered, his teeth chattering, as he slipped his hands back into his bearskins, clutching the seeds tightly.

As far as he could see, all was white. The ground was covered in snow that almost hurt to look at, with glazed patches that drifted amongst the soft plains, almost invisible in the sea of whiteness. Isak took care when he walked, not to step on them and slip.

With every step the ground felt more firm and frozen but Isak still walked. Even though his hands were white and his eyes were wet from the cold, it was the most alive Isak had felt since Even swept him up in his arms and took him far across the blue seas from his home.

Isak felt the warm tears, that were caused by wind, start to drip down his cold cheeks and into his open mouth. That’s when he realized; the last time he had felt wind on his face was when the ship had disembarked from Jutland.

Standing here in this freezing foreign country, alone, with no one as far as the eye could see, Isak longed for home. But more than that, he felt anger. Anger at the pillagers for choosing their village, anger at Eva for being so stupid as to intervene and get taken by a monster, and most of all anger at Even for not enacting violence on him when Eva was probably going through something unimaginable.

He stumbled backwards, lost in his thoughts, and only had a moment to sink into the surprisingly soft ground, before his foot fell through that softness, throwing him down into darkness.

Isak could feel his ears start to ring from where he had been thrown and he winced, trying to get his bearings. He pressed his hands to the ground, pushing himself up until he was standing on shaky legs. He cried out when his leg buckled, obviously twisted from the fall.

Through wet eyes he looked up and saw the dim light of the dark sky staring back at him. Realisation hit him in that moment: he had fallen into a bear trap. They were common in Jutland. Their village was small with few men and no warriors. The only way to protect their livestock and crops from stray animals was to create bear traps such as this to catch stray animals. However, Even was strong and able and appeared to have no crops or no livestock to protect. A man like him had no cause for these methods of capture.

He pressed the shaky toe of his shoe into the hardness of the wall of the hole and tried to pull himself up. He cried out when his leg gave, but he tried again. And again, and again until finally, the pain was too much.

Isak let himself cry in frustration as the reality of his situation settled in. It was so dark he could barely see in front of him, but he knew he was deep in the ground. The dirt around him was chilled and frozen from the long winter. When he tried to find a grip in the frozen soil, his soft hands bled, and caught on ice shells, before sliding off. There was no way out of this hole. He was going to die down here.

“Someone help me!” he screamed, and his own voice echoed back at him, reminding him of how empty the land surrounding Even’s home was. Even would not be back for hours, and Isak would be dead by then. And if Even did get home in time, there was no guarantee he would even notice Isak had gone. Isak was nothing more than another accessory, as meaningless as a piece of beautifully crafted furniture in Even’s large empty homestead..

Alone in this dark hole, there was no one left to judge him. With that in mind, he let himself cry out, “Even, please help me,” before he let the cold take him.

 

* * *

 

When Isak woke, a familiar sound pounded in his ears. He inhaled and smelt rust and wolfskins. And that’s when he realized the sound under his ear was Even’s heartbeat. He sobbed in relief and he felt the arms holding him grip him tighter, pressing him to a strong chest as if to comfort him.

Isak felt his teeth start to chatter. His eyes were dry from cold but that did not stop him from sobbing, loudly and hysterically, as Even’s warmth seeped into his bones and brought him back to life. Even cursed at the sound, and he pulled Isak’s face back from his chest to look at him for the first time.

“Please do not cry, I have you.”

And he did. He was still cold through, but Even’s arms around him were hot and grounding. Isak clung to him, ashamedly taking comfort from his captor once again. Dully, he noted that he had never heard Even plead for anything before. But he had pleaded for Isak not to cry.

Even shifted and Isak let out a small scream when he was hoisted up and over Even’s shoulder. It was humiliating but he understood the reason for it when he felt Even’s body begin to climb, up and then out. He kept one hand on Isak’s back the entire time, keeping him safely perched until they were on solid ground.

After that, things seemed to move more quickly. Even cradled Isak in his arms like a babe before striding to the homestead, Isak vibrating with the force of his pace. The homestead, that had seemed so ominous before, was a comfort after spending hours in true empty blackness.

Even lowered him to the ground, onto the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. When he started to pull away, Isak whimpered and Even stilled.

“Are you in pain?” Even asked, his eyes scanning Isak’s shivering body intensely, as if wounds were something he could beat into submission.

“Yes, but I need something else,” Isak said. He felt himself flush with embarrassment. He knew he was being a child, but his pride was tempered by his brush with death. “Would you allow me to have my quilt? The one you gave me last night?”

Even had not acknowledged what he’d done this morning but it was undeniably him who gave it to Isak. Isak was uncertain if he had broken some unspoken understanding they had, to not acknowledge Even’s act of kindness, but Even seemed taken aback.

He was about to tell Even that he was sorry, that of course he hadn’t given him the quilt, when Even left the room. In seconds he was back, Isak’s quilt and a roll of gauze in hand. Isak clutched it to him, the quilt somehow comforting even when his hands were stained red and his body shook with cold. When Even reached out to grab his hand, Isak jumped, thinking he meant to rip his small comfort away. Even only gently uncurled one shaking hand from the cloth before pulling it to his chest and wrapping it in gauze.

“Why were you outside Isak?” Even asked, his voice deceptively calm as he braided gauze between the web of fingers on Isak’s hand.

Isak considered lying to save his own hide but what was there to say? Even had already caught him outside after he had promised he would not leave the homestead. Perhaps at last, Even would make his role in this place clear, now that he had ample cause to punish him.

Even moved down to Isak’s injured leg, staring up at Isak when he stayed silent. His touch was innocent and efficient, simply wrapping gauze around Isak’s twisted ankle to keep it unbroken. Still, the sight of Even between his legs sent a thrill of fear deep down into his spine.

“I was looking for soil, to plant something in the spring.” Isak said in small voice, knowing how foolish he sounded. And then he uncurled his other hand from the quilt and dropped the sad seeds he had found beside him. Isak was surprised he had not lost them in his panic down in the hole, but there they were.

“You disobeyed me for this?” Even asked, his voice stiff.

This was it. This was the moment when Even would finally beat him. Isak had been insolent twice now, and Even had been merciful. He could not expect kindness a third time. In fact, he did not want it. Why should he be coddled and touched so gently when his friends were suffering?

So for the first time he let his tongue grow sharp and said, “Do you finally want to beat me? I can strip or bend over if that’ll make it easier for you.” And then he tried to shuck off his tunic, even as his limbs trembled from fear and cold. Even abruptly grabbed his shaking hands in his large ones and held them by his sides.

He braced himself to be struck. Instead, Even pulled him into the warm cage of his arms and nudged his head up up with warm fingers.

“I would never beat you.”

Isak felt himself go limp with surprise and perhaps defeat.

“I will get you some seeds, proper seeds,” he said curtly, looking down disdainfully at the seeds that were barely more than stones. “And you can plant them yourself, under my supervision. Is that fair?”

_Was that fair?_

Was it fair for a dog to be allowed a past time? Isak knew Even did not care for vegetables or fruits, the meal fare for the last few days was evidence of that. He was only allowing this for Isak, a thrall who was entitled to nothing, not even his own life.

“It is fair,” he said, nodding compliantly when Even peered down at him through a mess of dark blonde hair. For a brief, mad moment, Isak longed to brush it out of his eyes so he could see his piercing eyes, unhindered.

When he wrapped the quilt around his shoulders and sniffled, drawing comfort from the worn soft cloth, Even’s eyes followed him.

“Why were you angry with me?” Isak asked bluntly. It may have been foolish but escaping punishment now three times made him feel bold. If Even wanted to hurt him, he would have beaten him bloody. Instead he had forgiven him, saved him, and indulged his childish request. “For taking this quilt,” he added.

Even’s blue eyes bore into him for an extended silence, making Isak flush. It was because his face was too close to the flame, he told himself.

Finally Even said, “It belonged to my mother.” before rising in a flurry of wolfskins and rusted cloak. For a moment, Isak thought he would leave him on the ground, shivering and hurt, but Even knelt down and heaved Isak up into his arms. Isak kept his eyes on Even’s neck, his fingers curling into the warm cloth that covered it.

Even carried him to his room quickly, his long legs almost aggressive in their pace, before he came to Isak’s bed and set him down gently. Isak felt like a child when he pulled the quilt from Isak’s grip and instead, covered him with it. He turned to leave and Isak felt himself startle.

“Thank you for saving me,” Isak said abruptly.

Even did not turn around but Isak could see his broad shoulders tense, before relaxing. Isak was sure he nodded before he left him alone, with only the quilt to warm him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fear of rape, Fear of beating, Mentions of Past Corporal Punishment, Freezing/Hypothermia
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Jutland - A peninsula that forms the continental part of Denmark today. Jutland's terrain is relatively flat, with open lands and plains.
> 
> Hålogaland - The Northern region of Norway. Hålogaland is a drowned coastline containing extensive mountainous fjords and islands.


	5. Tumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak learns runes, and a disturbing revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for the overwhelming amount of positive and helpful comments for the previous chapter. We really are incredibly grateful to those of you who have embraced this fic so fully and completely and we can't wait to see your reactions to the twists and turns this journey will take the characters on. <333
> 
> Unfortunately we do need to address the not-so-great issue of commenters deliberately trying to undermine the fic. We were suspicious of the amount of anonymous comments we received in the previous chapter with very similar content, and having contacted AO3 we're now aware that somebody is leaving multiple comments under different names. Therefore we will continue to leave comment moderation on and we will be deleting any that we feel are a deliberate attempt to undermine our writing. This is not to censor opinion but to prevent the comments section of this fic becoming a battleground each time we post. We hope you understand this decision. Unfortunately, we were both forced to deactivate our Curious Cat accounts after being targeted by hate comments on there and we suspect somebody has followed us across in order to create havoc here as well. To the person doing this: please just stop. We're trying to write a fic for people to enjoy, we have no interest in the games you're playing. If you would like to contact us non-anonymously in order to discuss your issue with us, please find our Twitter handles in the previous chapter. And that is the absolute last time we'll acknowledge this on here.
> 
> On an update note, there may not be a Wednesday update this week depending on our personal lives. If there isn't, there will absolutely be one next Saturday as usual. And from next chapter we'd like to let you know there will be a greater amount of characters introduced and much more action, but in the mean time this is another exploratory one for Isak and Even's tenuous relationship and we hope you enjoy. Please let us know your thoughts and feelings.
> 
> Trigger warnings, as always, can be found at the end of the chapter - click below to go straight to them. Trigger warnings will contain spoilers.

**Chapter 4 - Tumbling Down**

_There's a room where the light won't find you_

_Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down_

_When they do I'll be right behind you_

[ Everybody Wants To Rule The World, Lorde ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaVA6sgOpws)

 

**Isak**

He dreamt that night. He was in the trap in the ground, his fingers broken and bloody, and above him his village burned. He screamed, but those screams went unheard because everyone above him was screaming. Everyone. He recognised individual voices and he could do nothing to stop it from happening. Eva. Vilde. Sara. Ingrid. Their mothers and fathers and kindly neighbours who had helped raise them. The babies who they had prayed would survive the winter.

Isak’s knees buckled; he clawed into the dry earth beneath him, he wished himself dead so that he would no longer hear the screams of those babies.

He screamed.

Even’s hands were on his arms when he woke up, gripping him tightly; he had shaken Isak awake. Isak stared at him mutely for a few seconds trying to remember where he was, whether he had cause to be fearful. He choked out, “Sorry,” three times, and Even pulled him into a fierce hug that grounded Isak back to the here and now.

“You had a nightmare,” he said. “There is no cause to apologise. None. It is… understandable.”

Isak stared down into Even’s chest, realising for the first time that the older man was shirtless, dressed only in his breeches. His body was lean and hardened with muscles and he pressed it tightly to Isak’s, his arms wrapped round his shoulders, large hands resting on the small of his back. And as this realisation gradually dawned on him, he pulled hurriedly away.

Even dropped his grip with similar speed.

“I -”

“I bathed this morning, and I have changed the water. It is warm. I would like you to bathe now.”

Isak flushed at this. Of course. He had not washed his body since they had been taken from the village; he had endured fire, burning bodies, days at sea, the fumes of the household, and of course the dirt from the bear trap. All but his face, which he had cleaned every morning in a small wash basin, was covered in a thick layer of grime. He felt uncomfortable to the touch and he was sure he smelled rotten.

“Of course,” he said, feeling disgusted with himself, though the reaction was entirely irrational. “Thank you.”

Even flashed him a small, benevolent smile before leaving the room. Isak eased himself out of bed, his heart still beating quickly from the nightmare and perhaps something else now. He did not confront the source of the _something else_ until he was out in the main annex of the house, the large wooden tub in front of him, filled with water still hot enough for the steam to rise from it.

Isak looked at it, and then at Even who was staring at it expectantly, and he swallowed tightly, understanding that he had to take off his clothes.

As he moved to take off his shirt, though, Even surprised him by deliberately turning his back and walking over to the fire where he placed some more logs, as Isak undressed silently. He shrugged off his shirt and then took down his breeches quickly, the white material stained through from the dirt on his skin.

He looked up one last time to see that Even was still tending the fire and then quickly climbed into the tub, his skin adjusting to the warm water before he sank into it.

It felt so good he made a small sound of contentment, his eyes closed in bliss. He allowed the warmness of the water to sink over him for a moment, indulging in the spaciousness of the tub. It was so different to the tiny one Mama had owned that never quite fitted his growing limbs. This one was large enough to sink into without having to prop his legs up over the side and he moaned again with happiness before remembering himself.

When he opened his eyes, Even was staring at him, a small smile tugging his lips upward, and Isak felt himself recoil. Was this what Even had intended, for Isak to put on some sort of lewd display for him? He frowned, his mouth pressing into a thin line.  He needed to get this over with so he could get dressed again. And so he began to run his hand over his skin, attempting to remove the stubborn filth that coated him.

“There are easier ways to do that,” Even told him. He brought him a rag of cloth, and a hard mass of soap that Isak marvelled at. Soap had been a huge luxury in their village, reserved only for festivities. On the few occasions he had managed to wash with it, he had only ever acquired a tiny piece chipped from another villager’s larger block. Now Even was handing him a block that his hand struggled to reach around. He took it warily, his hands wet through, and rubbed a small amount into the cloth as Even watched him. Then he ran the cloth along one of his shoulders, removing some of the dirt. He moved the cloth to the other shoulder, and ran it lightly down this one as well, and then yelped when Even leaned across to grab the cloth from him.

“You will never get yourself clean enough if you run it over your skin in this way,” Even said forcefully, and then he began to swipe down from Isak’s collarbone, down to his chest, his ministrations heavy as he scrubbed the dirt away. It was a slightly unpleasant feeling; not hard enough to hurt, but enough to be uncomfortable.  The soap created a lather across his shoulders and chest and he sat rigid in the water, jostled by Even, who began to work his way lower, scrubbing all the while, until his hands moved toward the water line.

Isak remembered himself then, and he gasped, before closing his legs. But Even did not notice: his eyes were fixed on Isak’s stomach, where Eva’s sharp elbows had left bruises on his skin days before.

“This was… one of my hoard?” he asked. Isak looked at him with fear, because a change had come across Even almost instantaneously. It was a change that made Isak cower against the side of the tub, trying to create space between him and the animal he now faced.

 _His property is marked. He will hurt Eva if he knows it is her_ , his mind babbled irrationally.

And so he nodded, the lie not fully formed in his head because Even had already created it for him.

“You were asleep when someone took you? Did they hurt you.”

Isak remained silent, and Even mistook his silence for acquiescence.

After a time, the older man pulled away, noticing Isak’s discomfort. His eyes burned with some unknown emotion.

“Did you hear his name? The man that took you?”

Isak shook his head. _This,_  at least, was not a lie.

“You can, uh… you can finish yourself,” Even said. He stood up and then added, “Remember your hair as well. It is filthy. I’ll bring you some fresh water to rinse it.”

His voice had become harsh and distant. Isak nodded, trying to make sense of what had just occurred. To distract himself, he continued to scrub his body in the same way Even had, but Even’s touch had been strangely comforting, despite the force of it, and he was not quite able to emulate the sensation.

Once he had finished cleaning his body he sank down into the tub to wet his hair and stayed on his back for a while, the comfort of the warm water proving too tempting. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the water in his ears, and he breathed in the woody smell of the room as the firepit crackled.

His nightmare already seemed like a lifetime ago. His mind had been troubled but now he could barely think of anything except the heady warmness of this moment. He did not consider this to be a good thing. The nightmare, and the distress he had felt upon waking, was a more appropriate state of being. He did not wish for his mind to become dull.

When he opened his eyes, Even was staring at him, a bowl in his hand. Isak gripped the sides of the tub and sat up, apologising quickly, but Even simply continued to stare. Isak pushed his wet hair back from his forehead and bit his lip, and finally Even seemed to see him again. He came forward, knelt down and took the soap before lathering it into his hair.  He then poured warm, clean water from above, and it trickled down like rainfall as Isak squeezed his eyes shut.

“I would like you to bathe at least once a week,” Even told him when Isak’s hair was clean to the touch. Isak widened his eyes.   _Once a week_? It was an indulgence he had no understanding of. And then a darker thought took him. _He wishes for his possession to be as pretty as possible_ , he decided.

“ _Ma_ \- Even… I bathed at home far less frequently,” he said hesitantly. Even searched his face, his eyes burning intensely, and then shrugged his shoulders.

“I wish for you to be clean.”

Isak looked at him for a few moments and then said coldly, “Thank you.”

Even turned, then, and shouldered his wolfskins before heading towards the door. “You can get dressed. I will be outside for a short while,” he told him. And then he was gone in a flurry of ice that whipped inside when the door was ajar.

Isak lingered in the water for a while longer and then stood up, the water dripping from his body.  He shivered, moving to the firepit to let the heat dry him through. He then found clean clothes on the table next to the tub and wondered not for the first time whether he, as a thrall, was creating extra work for Even when his presence was meant to ease it.

Once he had dressed he put on the bearskins he had donned yesterday and followed Even outside, hoping this was permitted when he was nearby. It hurt to walk too far and he limped slightly, his ankle still pained.

Thankfully when Even saw him coming he did not tell him to go back inside, but instead pointed to a patch of ground and said, “Sit, if you wish to stay out here.”

So Isak followed his order, leaning against the exterior wall to the homestead and really _looking_ for the first time at the scenery that surrounded them.

From here he could see snow-topped mountains, shrouded in the odd blue darkness that seeped into everything here. He could see open fields, stripped of the grasses of summer, frost tipped and inarguably beautiful, stretching out around the homestead. The darkness prevented him from seeing too far but he understood this place was very beautiful, even if it was deadly. The cold winds were not so strong today and though the air worked its way deep into his throat, stripping it of breath, it felt bearable. He swiped at his eyes where tears had started to form from the cold and pulled his robe tightly round him.

Even was stood in the bear pit that Isak had fallen into yesterday, a shovel in his hand as he dug up earth from above and buried the ground he stood on. Occasionally he would stamp down, packing the frozen dirt underfoot. As Isak looked around he saw other mounds of dirt in the ground and found himself asking, “How many traps _are_ there?”

He saw Even’s head peer up over the edge, an oddly guilty expression on his face.

“There are… a few.”

He began to work again, filling in the hole methodically.

“Are there many bears around here?” Isak asked. He still felt hesitant speaking so freely but Even did not appear to mind, and it was a relief to share a conversation that wasn’t focused around Isak’s health or status.

“Some,” Even said. “But they are not a problem in the winter. They sleep through it”

“Lucky bears,” Isak murmured, and then coughed to cover up the statement when Even peered at him again.

“Sometimes deers will find their way in, which is most welcome, because their meat is delicious. Mostly, though, these traps have been dormant for years. I do not need them.”

 _Then why create them_ , Isak wondered. He did not voice this question, though, and Even did not expand on his statement.

“I would like to apologise again, for what happened yesterday,” Even said as he worked. “You should not have gone outside without me, but I should have been clearer with you as to why.”

Isak nodded in contrition. “It was stupid of me. I will not do it again.”

“Things are different here, you have to understand,” Even said. “Everything is different in the North. There is a reason we need to be… harder.” He climbed out of the hole, now, and began to pack the last of the soil into it. “You understand what I am saying?”

“Yes.”

Even walked over to him then, and leant down to look at him. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Isak said again. “I understand.” He did. He understood that a moment of recklessness could be the end of him here; it was not just the other North men who were a threat, but the sheer brutality of their surroundings. He could not afford to be naive here.

As this thought solidified within him, Even brought his hands down to Isak’s hair, still damp from the bath, and ran his hand through it. “You should not be out here in this infernal coldness when you are not dry through. Come.”

He stood back, and Isak stood up. As he followed Even back to the entrance of the homestead, he saw a stone erected underneath a deciduous tree. There were strange markings on it, unfamiliar to him, and curiosity got the better of him; he stopped for a moment and said, “What is this?”

Even turned to where he was looking and frowned slightly.

“It is the family stone.”

“Can I…?”

Even’s frown became deeper and for a moment he looked as though he was going to refuse. But then he put his hand on Isak’s waist and moved him towards it.

“You did not have these in your village?” he asked, as Isak studied it with interest. Isak shook his head. “Then how do you remember your dead?”

“They are scorched to ashes and then marked with stones,” Isak said, thinking about his mother. “But we do not-” he ran his fingers over the indentations. “We do not use these strange markings.”

“Strange?” Even said, and he looked amused now. “These are not strange. They are the Futhark. You do not know of this? They are used all over the province.”

Isak shook his head. “No. I have not seen anything like it before.”

“You do not know how to read them?”

“ _Read_?” Isak repeated back, the word strange to him. “What does this word mean?”

“It means…” Even made a sound of contemplation. “These symbols mean different things. When I look at them, I see my mother and father’s name, and my father’s mother and father before him. I see their accomplishments. The symbols tell me this.”

“You cannot just talk about it?”

“Of course. But when I am dead, who will remember? Who will talk about them? When they are marked onto the stone with these runes, all who pass by here will know they existed.”

Isak contemplated this and found himself growing upset. He thought of his mother’s final resting place in the village, under a tree similar to this one. But nobody would know now that her ashes had been scattered there; anybody still alive that knew his mother had been taken far away. And none of them would see that tree again.

And then he thought of Eva’s mother, and the other elder people of the village, burned to death until they were ash, but with no resting place at all. Even if they had known about the _Futhark,_ they would never have had the chance to be commemorated in this way.

“Would you like me to teach you?” Even asked, and Isak blinked, realising he had fallen into silence. “How to read these, I mean?”

His immediate reaction was to refuse: he did not wish to converse with this monster more than was necessary. And then he remembered himself, and a feeling took hold of him. _Perhaps one day you will return to Jutland. You would be able to mark her stones if you know how to._

“Yes,” he replied. “Yes, I would like that.”

 

* * *

 

 

They sat by the firepit, on top of the bearskin rug, and Isak was alarmed when Even pulled him into his lap; he yelped and squirmed away. He was still unused to Even’s tactile nature, particularly as it did not appear to be lustful; he could not understand the intention behind it. Even looked at him for a moment and then said, “I apologise. I thought you would be warmer.”

He allowed Isak to move from his lap, to the rug next to him. And there Isak stayed, though he grudgingly admitted to himself that Even had been right. He was much warmer when encased in his arms.

“I learnt with this,” Even said, showing him a treated wooden slab. “My mother taught me.”

 

Isak’s eyes ran over the runes and he reached out to touch the first one. It was a straight line with two diagonal lines at the top, parallel to each other and stretching upwards. “Fé,” Even said.

“Wealth,” Isak repeated.

 Even nodded. “Exactly. You understand the connection? Each rune means something different… they are a word themselves, but we can use the sounds they represent to form other words. There is a difference between the _meaning_ of the rune and the  _sound_ of the rune. This means wealth but the sound is _fuh_ . It is the simplest one to remember because it is the first one, and _fuh_ is the only sound it makes. Others make more than one sound.”

 He pointed to the next one, his hand ghosting over Isak’s. It looked like two long legs, connected at the top. “This one is úr. Rain.”

 “Which sounds do you use for it?” Isak asked, fascinated. “ _Uh_?”

 “Yes, and _vuh_ , and _wuh_ , and _yuh_.”

“ _Ja_?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Even said, smiling. “We also use it to say yes.”

“I’m good at this,” Isak said, feeling proud of himself, and then he widened his eyes, immediately chastising himself. Eva and Vilde had always been amused by his boasting, self-deprecating as it usually was, but to Even it must have sounded like insolence.

However Even just laughed and agreed. “You are.”

He taught him more of the runes and praised him sporadically, clearly surprised with the ease in which Isak picked it up. Isak himself was a little surprised, too, but his mind sucked in the knowledge eagerly. It felt good to turn his attentions to something new; something which momentarily distracted him from the brutal reality of the situation he had found himself in.

When they reached the ninth rune, a straight vertical line, Even hesitated a little. “This one?” Isak pointed.

“ _Isa_.”

“Ice,” Isak said. “Like my name.”

“As I said, a pretty name.”

“And the sounds? Just  _ih?”_

“Yes. But you can also say _eye_. And also... _eh_ .” He paused. “Like _Even_.”

“So our names are both linked to ice?” Isak asked, feeling a little sad for some reason. He had never understood why his mother and father had named him for the element that took lives in the dead of the winter and made the crops unplantable.

Even nodded briefly, his finger moving. “But this one,” he said, jumping forward, to a rune that looked almost like a lightning strike, “is the prettiest of the runes. _Sol_.”

Isak traced a finger over it, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he made the sound. “ _Ss.”_

“The second letter of your name. The sun melts the iciness of it,” Even told him. “That is why your hair is so golden.”

Isak laughed out loud, comforted by the image. “So I am ice _and_ sun?”

“And I am just… ice. And rain.”

They made eye contact then, Isak gazing across to check Even’s expression, concerned by how his voice had dropped. He said, “Rain melts ice as well.”

“Not in this place,” Even told him. “The rain is ice here as well.”  He looked back down at the wooden tablet and cleared his throat. “But still. The runes are… appropriate. For both of us. The runes are rarely false.”

They went back to studying, until Isak had an understanding of each one. Even stopped often to explain, and to illuminate with small stories, and Isak found himself reading them on his own after some time. He was even able to connect them together, to make words he was familiar with, and Even confirmed he was correct each time.

“Now you can read the stone outside,” Even concluded. “If you wish to.”

“Can I go now?” Isak asked, trying not to sound too eager and most likely failing. The day was drawing to a close and he had not yet started cooking for the evening. He wondered why Even did not insist on it, but instead Even nodded, and together they walked back outside.

Isak read the names from the stone with an uncertain tongue.  Even’s father, Alexander, and his mother, Rebekah. He ran a hand over the words under Alexander’s name. “Gu-God? Suh-lu…” He frowned, and Even encouraged him to take his time. After a time the correct expression dawned on Isak. “God Slayer? Yes? He was called this?”

“Yes. Here we give our warriors names,” Even said. “All of us have them.”

Isak thought of Even’s name, the one they had called him back in the burning village. _Berserker._ He did not question it.

 “My father was so named because he deposed the last viking chief. He was delusional and fashioned himself as one of the gods. It could not stand. And so the name _God Slayer_ stayed with my father.”

Isak’s mouth dropped open. Even’s father must have been the fiercest of all warriors, to have been been able to depose of a viking chief.

He wanted to read more, to test out his newly-won knowledge, when his stomach growled insistently. Even chuckled.

“Perhaps tomorrow. Let us have some dinner.”

Isak wished to argue, but Even had already shown excessive leniency this evening. So he set his jaw in resigned silence and they headed back to the warmth of the homestead.

When they were inside, Isak immediately busied himself with peeling and chopping the meagre portions of root vegetables that he found on the table, while Even stood by the firepit, roasting the crackling meat. Isak was lost in his thoughts, reflecting on the strangeness of the day, when Even cleared his throat, and he looked over to him, blinking.

“Your uh-” Even began, “Your own parents… were they among the dead?”

Isak shook his head. “No. They died before. My father died when I was a baby. My mother died in the summer.”

“This summer past?” Even asked. His voice sounded strained and Isak turned to look at him, wondering why this was significant.

“Yes.”

“I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” he said. “She… she was… troubled. She took her own life.”

A memory came back to him, unbidden; his mother in a pool of blood, the knife beside her. Through her throat was a deep gash that had continued to spill blood as Isak slumped down next to her and pulled her close, sobbing into her matted hair.

“Was it a quick death?” Even asked.

 _How long does it take a woman to bleed out_ , Isak wondered.

“I do not know. She… she cut her throat with a knife. Like this one.” He swallowed painfully, swiping at tears. “It was a very deep cut. The blood was… everywhere. I assume it was quick.”

His hands began to shake but still he attempted to chop the vegetables. He was not able to meet Even’s eyes; he needed this reason to be distracted, and he did not hear him approach.

When Even settled a large, calm hand on his shoulder he did not move; he stayed rooted to the spot, in fear or in apprehension he did not know, but he willed himself not to flinch. He stayed his hand, still clutching the knife.

“I am sorry that you had to see that,” Even told him. He reached across and gently eased the knife from Isak’s tight grip. “No innocent should have to see such an awful thing. And I am sorry for asking about it.”

 Isak took a deep breath, his eyes travelling to the ceiling and then back down to his still shaking hands.

“I will cook dinner,” Even told him firmly. “Perhaps you could practice your reading?”

If Isak had been in a more defiant mood, he would have snapped in that moment; he would have scorned Even’s clear attempts to coddle him and he would have continued with his task. But the sheer strength of his emotions had left him disoriented and he moved away from Even. A whim took hold of him and he asked, “May I continue to read the stone outside?”

Even frowned. “It is very cold outside, and very dark. I would prefer for you to stay in the house. You can use the tablet again for now.”

Isak frowned, remembering how limited his status really was. He was still not permitted to be outside on his own, despite the reprieve Even had given him earlier.

“Very well,” he said, and picked the wooden tablet up from the table. “I will take it to my room, if that is permitted?” He tried not to say the words too sarcastically, and Even looked at him with a slight frown before nodding his head.

But Isak did not go to his room. Instead, he headed to the door he had seen previously, with the runes engraved on the exterior. In his hand he carried an oil lamp which threw shadows on the wall and lit the way to the room at the end of the homestead.

The runes, which had seemed so elaborate to him the first time he had seen them, now jumped out at him in ways he could understand. But… something was not right with them. Some of them. He saw now that some had been scratched through. It was possible though, even through the scratchings, to see that they had once been the names he had seen on the family stone.

_Alexander, God Slayer - Rebekah, Wife To Alexander_

Isak frowned. Was it customary, perhaps, to scratch out names inside the homestead? It seemed an odd thing but he was unfamiliar with the customs around runes.

 The family name, Næsheim, was carved above it, and this had remained free from the insistent scratches. Above it was a large decorative symbol, beautifully ornate and he ran his fingers over this, pressing the tips into the grooves of the carving.

There had been nothing on this door that had not been on the stone outside. He was a little disappointed and lowered the lamp slightly to leave. And then he realised there was more carvings underneath the names of Even’s parents. These had not been carved lovingly and beautifully; they were roughly hewn, like the scratches through the names above them.

He peered at them closely and began to decipher them, looking down to the wooden tablet he was holding occasionally to prompt him.

 Gradually the runes became clearer and he re-read, struggling to make sense of them in his head: not because he did not understand them but because of what they told him.

_Murdered by son Even_

He looked at the scratched out names of Even’s parents, and then back down to the ugly words.

He held a hand up to his mouth in shock, because now it all made sense.

The name _Berserker._ The other men’s wariness around Even; even the viking chief’s deference to him.  The empty homestead, the lack of wife, the lack of _people_ in this vast estate.

Isak tried to steady himself, gripping the lamp tightly so he did not drop it. He had half convinced himself that Even was not the monster that the other men had called him but now he saw they were right. They had been right all along. Only a _monster_ would kill his own parents.

And as the reality of the situation whipped him through like the cold winds that howled outside, Isak began to wonder what this meant for him.  Was he merely a distraction for Even? A pretty little prize who he could look after like a pet, or a small child, in order to convince himself his soul was not black? But any man who murdered his own parents, who allowed the words to be marked upon the door to the room they had slept, _did_ surely possess the blackest soul of all.

And it would only be a matter of time before his new master allowed that soul to seep through the handsome exterior of his body, unbidden and unrestrained.

“Isak!”

Isak almost yelped in surprise when he heard his name being called from the other side of the homestead, spoken by the deep voice he had grown familiar with these last few days.

“Isak, where are you? Dinner is ready.”

Isak nodded to himself, willing himself the courage to go back to Even. To sit, to eat, to pretend all was well. But he knew now, more than ever, that he needed to plan his escape if he was to survive.

But how could he? He could not run at night, this much he knew. He did not have the survival skills to travel outside during the Northern winter. He could stay and try to defend himself against Even when his mood inevitably turned, but Isak knew how unlikely it was that he could overpower a man from the North who seemed to be cut from stone, so solid was his body. Poison, maybe? He had seen no rat poison but he could look around.

 _And then the men in his tribe will put you to death when they find you, as they surely will_ , he reminded himself.

All seemed hopeless. But he could not stay in this homestead, waiting placidly for Even to grow bored of him. It was unthinkable, and Isak had no wish to die. He would find a method of escape and he would plan it well. Until then, he would continue to play along with silent determination in his heart.  

Resolved, he tempered his shaking hands and headed back to the light of the fire pit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Description of past suicide, fear of murder/beating
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Futhark - The runic alphabet, specifically the [Younger Futhark](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Younger_Futhark), used in the Viking Age. It was divided into two branches - Long-Branch (primarily used in Denmark) and Short-Twig (Norway and Sweden) though we have used dramatic license here to combine the two. Although the society was pre-paper, the runes were commonly carved onto objects to signify ownership or to keep records.


	6. Gods and Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even takes Isak to the tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a Wednesday update! Thankfully we were able to get ahead of our writing schedule so we could bring you the usual midweek chapter instead of making you wait a week. We're super excited about the next few chapters as we begin to explore more of the world in which Isak and the rest of the thralls have been brought to, and we have some very exciting stuff planned. So strap yourself in, because from here on in it's going to be a bumpy ride. ;-)
> 
> Thank you for your supportive and wonderful comments on the previous chapter: just to reiterate here, we have absolutely no plans to abandon this fic, it is planned out right to the end and we absolutely love immersing ourselves in this world. As long as people still want to read, we want to write it for you! 
> 
> Trigger warnings are stronger for this chapter so please click to the end for them if you need to. As always, trigger warnings contain spoilers.

**Chapter 5 - Gods and Monsters**

_In the land of gods and monsters_

_I was an angel_

_Living in the garden of evil_

_Screwed up, scared_

_Doing anything that I needed_

_Shining like a fiery beacon_

[Gods and Monsters, Lana Del Rey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEXykmKWebQ)

 

**Isak**

 

Isak made an effort to rise early the next morning, having tossed and turned all night in bed as he tried futilely to form a plan. He dressed quickly and came out to find the main annex of the homestead empty, the fire burning lowly. Shivering, he reached down to lift a chopped log and placed it on the pit, stoking the flames with a steel poker. He was already weary of the cold weather in Hålogaland but at this moment he had more pressing matters to ruminate on.

There seemed to be no escape that he was able to conceive of. Running now, in the midst of winter, almost certainly meant death. Plotting to kill Even was a greater madness still. He could take his own life, in order to escape the torture that Even would inevitably bestow on him before he murdered him, but the thought of death made Isak’s blood run cold. He wanted to survive.

Now, though, he needed to distract himself. He needed to keep busy, for his mind to stay active, so that he did not lose his senses to dullness and lack of stimulus.

He looked for food to prepare for breakfast but there was little about; they had used the vegetables yesterday, there was no bread or meat that he could see. He looked around the room, hoping to find something to keep himself busy with, and then his eyes fell upon a few coins glittering dully in the muted light of the winter morning.

Swallowing sharply, and swiping his tongue over his lips to wet their dryness, he approached the wooden sideboard and pinched one between his fingers, holding it up to the lamp and turning it a couple of times. He did not know how much the coins were worth; those he had seen in Jutland were different to these; more practical and refined. Yet there was an undeniable beauty to the carving of these small silver discs that he marvelled at.

There were five coins in total scattered across the surface; an idea seized him and he picked them up quickly one by one, about to put them into his pocket, when the entrance to the house flung open. Even stood on the other side, his arms loaded down with goods, and Isak stared at him guiltily, the coins in his palm.

“Hello,” Even said quietly, his shoes heavy on the floorboards as he stamped snow off. He closed the door and looked at Isak and then a small smile tugged at his lips as Isak continued to gape stupidly at him, terrified of what Even might do. “I see you have found some coin?”

“Is… what is  _coin_?” Isak asked, feigning ignorance. Even gave him a confused smile. “They are so pretty. I have never seen anything like it.” He smiled weakly. “The carvings. I thought… maybe they had runes on?”

 _Lies_. He was afraid that Even would realise - for surely he did not take him to be so ignorant - but instead Even’s smile widened. He walked over to the table and dumped his armload onto it before turning back to Isak.

“Some of them do,” he said. “You are welcome to the small coins lying around the house. I have no real use for them.”

Isak could scarcely believe Even’s nonchalance.  It bordered on stupidity, it seemed to Isak. But he was grateful for it because a plan had now begun to take form. _If I can just collect enough of these_ , he thought, _and if I can last a few months here… by summer, I will have enough to pay someone to take me, Eva and Vilde away from here._

“Thank you,” Isak replied, remembering to smile sweetly. “You are most kind.”

Even’s face seemed to light up in a pleased smile and Isak turned away, remembering this man was not kind, or benevolent, and the exterior that he presented currently was intended only to deceive Isak. Isak needed to be strong in his resolve to feel no guilt in deceiving him back.

“I have been to the market,” Even said, gesturing to the purchases he had brought back. Isak came over hesitantly to look. “I felt you were in need of some clothes which… better fit you. My clothes are much too large for you.”

Isak tugged uncomfortably at the collar to his tunic as Even’s eyes fell on his exposed shoulder. _Yes_ , the clothes were too big, although Isak had wondered if perhaps Even had given them to him specifically for that reason.

“I looked for seeds but they did not have them this time. It is not really the time of year. Nonetheless I bought plenty of vegetables. And bread, and honey, and dried fruit, because the breakfasts we have eaten since you have arrived have been very rich. I thought you might like a choice. And it means less cooking for both of us.”

Isak tried to listen to what Even was saying but his true focus had remained on the clothes. They were beautiful: thick wool woven tightly, far superior quality to anything he had ever worn before. Even noticed his distraction and eventually trailed off, chuckling slightly.

“Do you like them?”

 _No. I do not like what they represent_ , Isak wanted to snap. He continued to be mystified by Even’s treatment of him. He was not his child, or his brother, and he was definitely not his wife. And yet here Even was, showering him with lavish gifts.

But when he looked up and saw Even was staring at him expectantly, he of course replied, “I do, Even. Very much. Thank you so much for this consideration.”

“Good.” Even sounded pleased with himself. “Here, go to your room and put some on. I will put out some food for breakfast.”

And so Isak headed back to his room, shedded the clothes that he had grown familiar with these past few days, and slipped into new garments. They did indeed fit perfectly, and were far more comfortable than those he had been wearing. It took him a while to grudgingly admit to himself that it had been a thoughtful purchase.

Then he remembered the coins in his pocket and looked around his room for a place to keep them. Finding a small wooden box, he carefully placed them inside, and then placed the wooden box under the sheets on the bed so it was hidden from sight.

 

* * *

 

He helped Even to prepare the breakfast and sat down with him to enjoy it. He had eaten purely meat and stock these past few days and was grateful for a change; the honey was sweet and delicious and the bread far better quality than the measly scraps he’d grown up with in Jutland, though it pained him to admit that to himself.

“Tonight we will go out,” Even told him when the silence between them had grown too thick. He took a bit of his bread and swallowed, ignoring Isak’s confused gaze.

“Outside?” Isak finally asked.

“To the village. The tavern, specifically.”

Isak wanted to ask a hundred questions. _What is a tavern? Why must we go? What is my role? Will there be other North men there?_ But he held his tongue and replied, “As you wish.”

Even frowned and put his bread down. “I do _not_ wish it, as it happens. But sometimes… we must be amenable. Sometimes staying separate does more harm than good.”

The words made no sense to Isak, who had come from a place where everyone knew everyone else’s business; he had always seen this as a good thing, because he would not have survived without the help of his neighbours. Even seemed to show no such disposition to to the matter but Isak had assumed that was simply how things were done in the North. He had not realised that perhaps Even was an outsider here, but now the thought had been verbalised he realised it entirely made sense. Of course a man who had murdered his own parents would try to keep himself separate. It should not have come as a surprise to Isak.

“I will be out hunting during the day, and we will leave in the evening,” Even told him, taking another hunk of bread and dipping it into the honey. “You are free to…” He trailed off and gave a slight shrug. “Please, stay in the house. It is too cold to linger outside.”

“Is there perhaps some chores I can do?” Isak asked. He disliked asking, bowing down like a dog, but if he was not permitted to go outside then he needed to keep his mind active. Even looked around and shrugged.

“The floors need cleaning, I suppose.”

Indeed, they were covered in grime and dust; perhaps they have never been cleaned. It was a job that Isak could make some work of, and he nodded in agreement.

Even stood up once he had finished, moving his plate to the wash basin which was filled with cooling water. When he came back past Isak to move to the entrance of the homestead, he stopped for a moment and gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Do not worry about tonight,” he told Isak. Isak looked up at him in confusion. _Why would I be worried_ , he thought. And then he saw Even’s face, the concern twisting his handsome features, and he realised:  _he is trying to reassure himself_.

It was not a welcome realisation.

 

* * *

 

 

Even came in with some rabbits from the hunt, their skins mottled with blood. They were a fairly paltry size and the older man grumbled with irritation. “There is such little game to be found in the winter,” he said, shrugging off his wolfskins and overshirt. His forehead was damp from exertion despite the freezing weather outside.

Isak leant back on his legs, clutching the hard bristled brush in his hand, in order to give himself a break from scrubbing the floor. Even looked at him for a moment and then around the room. He raised his eyebrows in good-natured surprise.

“You _have_ been busy.”

Isak felt himself blush, actually _blush_ , and he turned away. He wanted to keep Even happy but that did not mean he needed to demean himself any further than necessary by lapping up his compliments. “It was very dirty in here,” he said, deliberately churlish. Even did not answer, however. He merely smiled.

Isak watched as he shirked his undershirt, so he was barechested, and then took the pot of water simmering gently over the firepit to the washbasin. He scrubbed his face and body vigorously and then gestured for Isak to come over.

“Here,” he said, and helped Isak to take off his upper garments. Isak did not protest. though he felt himself tense, and then Even was scrubbing him with a new rag of cloth and the soap, until Isak’s skin was pink-hued and clean.

“Change your clothes,” he said, before Isak could put his shirt back on. “And give your hair a comb. He reached out and ran his hand through Isak’s mess of unruly curls. Isak tried not to flinch away, but Even must have noticed something imperceptibly change within him because he quickly withdrew his hand. “We will leave soon,” he said.

It seemed to Isak that Even was impossible to understand. There appeared to be no mood that lasted longer than a few minutes; he was either satisfied, content and open, or closed off and authoritative. Perhaps it was purposeful: if he allowed himself to experience one emotion too completely, or for too long, his murderous instincts would take hold of him, like a crazed and vengeful God rallying against the human folk for some perceived slight.

Isak satisfied himself with this explanation for no other made sense to him. He would need to continue to moderate his own moods when he was around Even, so that Even did not take them as kindling for his darker desires.

 

* * *

 

The walk to the tavern was short; or at least, Even’s long and purposeful strides, Isak rushing to keep up by his side, made short work of it. On the way, Isak worked up enough courage to ask Even what the word _tavern_ meant, and Even answered apologetically, “Of course you would not know. I had assumed… well, it is simply a drinking establishment. Where our men go for ale and sustenance.”

“They cannot do this at home?” Isak asked in surprise. Even laughed, though he did not appear to be in good spirits. If anything, his disposition was tense and nervous; Isak could see it in the clenching of his hands and the steely hardness of his shoulders.

“They can. But it is seemingly more fun when you have an audience.”

Isak wondered what that meant but he was distracted by the village which came into view after a mile or so of walking. It was entirely dissimilar to his own village. The snow-topped houses were more spaced out, and grander, even the smallest amongst them here. They were solidly built, like Even’s homestead, though his remained the largest that Isak had seen. All were quite beautiful in their design and Isak was once again painfully reminded of how different things were here, of how these _barbarians_ were inarguably a more advanced society than Isak’s had been in many ways, despite their savage nature.

“When we are in there,” Even told him, “It is best if you remain silent unless you are specifically asked a question. And even then you should look to me for permission to speak. The men here have very… _certain_ beliefs on a thrall’s role.”

Even looked to him then to check he had heard and Isak gave him a reassuring nod. “I understand, _Jarl_ Even.”

Satisfied, Even led them the rest of the way to the tavern.

Outside, Isak saw people waiting and as they approached he realised, his heart soaring, that they were thralls, huddled near the door for the meager warmth from within. Among them was Vilde, her golden hair tied back in a severe ponytail, her eyes wide and hopeful when she saw Isak. The thralls fell silent when they saw Even approaching; two immediately went down to their knees and the rest followed. But Even merely frowned at them as though he disliked the action.

“Am I to wait out here with the other thralls?” Isak asked Even hopefully, realising now that thralls presumably did not drink in the tavern alongside the free men. But Even shook his head.

“No. I wish for you to sit with me.” He voice was full of suspicion and Isak wondered if it was he that Even distrusted, or the other villagers. He thought back to the boat journey, and the way Even had guarded him so fiercely during it. It seemed now to Isak that his possessive streak was merely a method of control.

They passed closely by the thralls in order to enter, Isak falling behind Even so he could clasp Vilde’s hand quickly before he went inside. He managed to mouth _How is Eva_ silently but Vilde shook her head. The action could only mean two things: either Vilde did not know, or Eva was not well.

Isak had no time to reflect on this, however, because once he was inside the tavern, the cheers and raucous laughter and bellowing from the men within died as soon as he set foot over the threshold. He seized up in fear, his legs refusing to walk any further. He felt all sets of eyes on him and it terrified him, but Even edged him forward with his hand clasped tightly on his shoulder, and together they headed for a benched table on the outer perimeters of the large room.

His eyes only had time to take in the tavern briefly: rows of benches, chipped from age and damp, filled the room; a mighty fire roared at the end of the tavern, and all around were ale kegs dripping onto the damp mud floor beneath them. The North men drank from mighty horns, and tankards. All around was the smell of spilled ale, pungent in fruit and spices, that seemed to intoxicate Isak within seconds.

But he had no time to reflect on the strangeness of this place. No sooner had they sat down did a group of North men approach them. They took seats on the bench opposite Even, and though they addressed him, their gazes did not fall from Isak, who lowered his eyes in submission.

“Berserker,” said the man Isak remembered as Bjørn, the one who had raped and claimed Sara. “We do not bring thralls into this fine establishment. They dirty the place up. Perhaps you did not know this, considering it has been so long since you owned one.”

“No, I am aware,” Even answered levelly. He looked at Bjørn with a hard look on his face. “My thrall stays here, where I can see him.”

There was a low murmur of challenge amongst the men; Bjørn stood up, presumably to draw a weapon, when a booming female voice sounded from behind them, “Put that limp dick of yours away, Bjørn.” Isak looked to see a sturdy young woman approaching them, her mouth set in a thin but amused line. “Oh, or was it your little dagger? I can never tell the difference between the two.” She shrugged. “Both do an equally poor job of fucking us women folk.”

Isak’s mouth dropped open, frightened on the woman’s behalf, but there was an approving chorus of laughter around the room. Bjørn sat down, suitably chastised.

The woman approached Isak, her eyes raking over him and her tongue coming out to lick her lips. She had a lively, open expression that Isak found himself trusting despite her blatant and lustful scrutiny of his form.

“It should not be allowed,” Bjørn muttered darkly, gesturing to Isak. “Thralls have never entered the tavern.”

Beside him, Isak felt Even tense, his hand brushing against his sheathed sword.

“Yes, well, the other thralls are not half as pretty or as clean as this one,” the woman answered. Isak’s gaze swept down again, red rushing to his cheeks. “I can see why Jarl Even wants to keep him close. It seems a sensible decision to me. And as this is _my_ tavern, you would do well to abide by my rules.”

A thin, reedy voice sounded from behind her, then; a small-built man said, “Christine, my love… this is… well, this is actually  _my_ tavern.”

But the woman, Christine, merely shoved him away and said, “Who does all the work around here, while you sit around drinking away our profits, husband of mine?”

This was met by a chorus of laughter and jeers, consolatory cries of “Bad luck, Kasper,” and Isak had to hold back a smile. He could not help but be comforted by this woman’s exuberance, despite the awfulness of the situation he had found himself in. Kasper looked to Bjørn for a moment with an expression that seemed to convey _I tried_ before he sloped off back to the ale kegs.

When the laughter had died down, Christine put a tankard of dark ale in front of Even and gave Isak some water. “Pay the other men no mind,” she said, and Isak realised she was talking to him. He looked at her in confusion. “It is nice to have such a pretty face to look at as I work. Not like these ugly brutes.” And then she licked her lips in clear desire.

Isak shifted uncomfortably at this, eyes widening in disbelief at her lack of decorum; he had never met such a forward woman. Even Eva carried herself with more subtlety.

Even grunted at her, clearly ready for her to move away, and Christine’s expression turned more guarded before she hurried away, her tray under her arm. She left them to sit in silence, Isak’s eyes trained downwards, as Even knocked back half of his large tankard of beer.

The other men had remained on the table with them, and Isak felt their eyes prickling into them as they assessed the situation. He was wondering why Even had wanted to come here, when he was so clearly uncomfortable with being around his fellow North men - he had barely spoken two words since entering. But his question was answered when one of them said, “It is good to see you heeded Erik’s advice, Berserker. We were beginning to think you had something to hide, shutting yourself off in that vast estate of yours.”

Erik. The chief of the band of pillagers. Isak realised that Erik must have said something to Even, perhaps when he had visited the market that morning. It seemed, then, there was at least one man that Even feared.

“We cannot blame Even too much,” Bjørn said, his voice deliberately cruel, still burning from his humiliation minutes before. “He has such a pretty little thrall here, the first he has ever had. Of course he would wish to keep the whore to himself. Still, it is in remarkably good condition. All those pretty golden curls, not yet shorn. No bruises. Dressed as a free men dresses. Why, I think those garments are finer than my own. And how clean he is! He smells sweeter than my wife.”

There was some murmuring at this, as the men agreed with his assessment. Isak glanced at Even and saw that his fingers were white from gripping the handle of the tankard too tightly.

“How I choose to keep my thrall, Bjørn, is none of your concern.”

“Are you sure about that? Because we _all_ have thralls, Berserker, and it only takes one of them getting ideas above their station before we have an uprising on our hands.”

“If you are frightened that the skinny little wench you claimed will rise up against you, perhaps you should reconsider your status as a man of the North,” Even gritted out. Bjørn glared at him, and gulped down more ale from his horn. Isak watched the other men taking the back-and-forth argument in with cruel, amused expressions and he tried to suppress a shudder.

“Where is Nikolai tonight?” another man asked, and Isak looked across to see it was the handsome one who had tried to claim him during the raid. Christoffer. He sat next to Vilde's owner, the tall, dark-haired man named William, who took in the situation with bored eyes. Christoffer, however, was looking at Isak with a curious expression on his face but his tone was mild, as though he hoped to change the subject. “It is not like him to stay at home on a winter’s evening.”

A few men shrugged, but one smirked and answered, “Probably fucking that new thrall of his bloody.”

They all laughed at this, except for Even and Isak. Isak felt something sick within him, a gut reaction to the cruel way these men spoke about their thralls, about _Eva_ , and before he could stop himself he snapped, “Do not talk about her in that way!”

The room fell silent. Isak clasped a hand to his mouth, his eyes widening. He saw Christine gaping at him from the other side of the tavern, before turning her back to the room as she proceeded to busy herself cleaning a table; he saw the men opposite him look at each other in clear disgust and outrage.

And then he glanced across to see Even staring at him with a horrified expression on his face. Isak gasped at it, beginning to tremble in fear, but Even’s expression shifted as suddenly as it had formed. His face lit up with mirth as he turned to the other men.

“You will have to excuse my thrall. It is true I have indulged him slightly.” And then Even’s strong hands grabbed his waist, lifting him into his lap. Isak struggled fiercely against it, a sharp cry piercing his throat, but Even held him still with an iron grip. “I personally believe there are more pleasurable ways for a man to fuck his thrall. Perhaps it has made him believe we are in a marriage of sorts.” And then he tilted his head back and laughed mockingly, and the men watching them began to laugh too.

Isak shuddered. _He is just like them after all_ , his frantic mind babbled at him. _A brute. He is a brute. He intends to punish you for his insolence. He is going to do it here, in front of these men._

“And what ways would those be?” one of the men asked. “Show us, Berserker. We would love to know how you treat this mouthy little bitch.”

There were loud grunts of assent. Isak felt his heart beating faster as every man in the room looked at them expectantly, waiting for Even to _show them_ what he was capable of.

What _was_ Even capable of, though? Isak still had no idea.

“I prefer… slow. And purposeful. It is important he does not know what to expect. Confuses that pretty head of his.” Even tilted Isak’s chin towards him, his blue eyes shining with some unknown emotion. It did not seem like excitement but the tone of his voice conveyed it in every word, and Isak was confused by this. He did not have time to dwell, however: he let out a small, disgusted moan as Even pressed a mocking kiss to his cheek, and he tried to wrench free as the men facing them jeered in encouragement.

Even pulled away, tapped Isak lightly on his wet cheek and said, “You see? It is not difficult to keep him pliant.”

The other men roared with laughter: all except one. Bjørn considered the two of them and once the hubbub had died down he said, “That is all? You make him squirm a little?” He snorted mockingly. “Forgive me if I do not consider this to be an effective method of keeping a thrall in line.”

“So impatient,” Even told him with mock concern. “Why do you assume I am finished?”

Bjørn fell silent and Even ran his hand along Isak’s stomach, slipping his fingers underneath the edge of his tunic and undershirt so his bare hands were on Isak’s skin. “You wonder why I dress my thrall in nice clothes? It is so he feels like even more of a _whore_ when I put my hands on him.”

Isak felt something break inside of him at Even using the word _whore_ so casually. He let out a loud cry of humiliation which made many of the men sit up, leaning forward intently to revel in Isak’s misery.

Even’s hand came up to Isak’s hair and he tugged sharply at it, causing Isak to yelp in pain and surprise. “And his hair? Why would I cut this off, when it it is so… _useful_.” He tugged it again, so that Isak’s head was pulled to one side, his bare neck exposed. Even pressed a kiss here as well, and Isak burned from the touch, struggling to move away even as Even's hands held onto his hair.

"Do not be too rough with him," a man urged, and Isak looked up in hope to see Christoffer speaking. Then his mouth broke out into something resembling a leer. "You would not want to ruin his pretty face."

Isak slumped slightly, his body rigid with fear from where this was heading. Even had not taken him in the homestead; it seemed he had wanted an audience when he finally fucked him.

Sure enough, one of the men urged him forward with encouraging words. “Is he sweet to fuck? How hard do you take him?”

“As hard he needs. As often as he needs.”

“Show us,” Bjørn said. His eyes were still flint-like; he was the only one, it seemed, who was not convinced by Even’s display. “Show us how  _hard_ you give it to him.”

Even paused for a moment, and though Isak could not see the expression on his face he was sure he was smiling. “Bjørn, I have explained to you. Some things are best kept in the homestead. However… you can see how well he responds to being opened up.”

There was a flurry of excitement as Even’s hands moved so that one was wrapped tightly around Isak’s waist and the other travelled to beneath Isak’s legs, brushing against the seat of his trousers.

Isak tried bodily to remove himself from his lap, screaming out in horror, but it was useless trying to escape from the cage of Even’s muscled arms. _This is it_ , he told himself. _This is where it happens; in a dirty room for drinking and debauchery, with an audience of monsters._

He clenched his eyes shut, expecting his trousers to be ripped aside. His chest heaved in fear.

And then something happened, but not what he was expecting. Even made a show of imitating the trousers being pulled down at the back, but they remained around his waist, the seat concealed by Even’s legs. The long front of his tunic hid the fact that the waistband had not moved during this 'action'.

Isak blinked, calming slightly, though his breaths still rang ragged in his chest.

“Look, he wants it. He knows it is pointless to fight. Show us how well he moans,” someone urged Even. Isak was lost in his confusion, not understanding what was happening. He had expected to feel the thrust of Even’s large fingers inside of him but instead Even slid them up to the small of his back, still unseen by the other men, and he began to trace lines across it in a way that seemed almost… reassuring?

“Play along,” Even whispered then in his ear. The men leant forward, hoping to hear what he said, but out loud Even told them, “The words I whisper to him are not fit for a free man to hear. My thall knows this. Again, it reminds him of his place.”

He stroked the small of Isak’s back again and Isak gasped, arching his back slightly. He was certain he did not want any sort of touch from Even but the gentleness of Even’s fingers confused him, and made him shudder. His mouth fell open and this elicited another cheer from their captive audience.

“How sweet is his hole?” one of them asked. “Is he as tight as he looks?”

“Do not pay attention to them, do not pay attention to what I say to them, pay attention only to me,” Even whispered to Isak. Out loud, he replied, “I have no complaints.”

“I would like to hear him whimpering. I would choke him on my large cock, stretch that pretty mouth of his, make him gag so I could hear it,” another said.

“I would cut off his ears if he tried,” Even whispered to Isak. Isak whimpered, his mind clouding over with conflicting statements.

“Nonsense, Frederick, you would not have the self control. Besides, a thrall like this simply needs bending over and fucking. Never mind how he _sounds_.”

“If anybody touches you I will chop their hands off,” Even continued to whisper to him. Isak began to squirm then, barely understanding his reaction. These men… these _brutes_ , were describing their most lewd fantasies about him, and his reaction should merely have been one of disgust. Yet Even’s words were hot and low in his ears, his fingers tracing Isak’s skin, and Isak found he was barely listening to the men anymore, so aware was he of Even’s presence. He wriggled against Even, a contradictory feeling taking hold of him: of both wanting to escape and wanting to burrow deeper into Even’s touch.

“See how the whore squirms on your fingers? Perhaps I was wrong… maybe you do know how to treat it,” Bjørn admitted, a twisted smile on his face. “Shove them in deeper, though. I want to hear more moans.”

Even made a movement, as though he was following the order, and Isak spread his legs so they draped along the side of Even’s. _Play along_ , his mind ordered him, repeating Even’s words back. He gasped, and then moaned out loud, as Even stroked across his stomach and his back, while pressing ale-slicked, full lips to his neck.

“I will never let them harm you,” Even whispered to him, as the other men descended into raucous encouragement, some of them openly grabbing themselves through their trousers. Although Isak was primarily focused on Even in this moment, he did notice for the first time that one of the men did not seem to share the enthusiasm: Christoffer sat at the end of the table, his body awkwardly removed from the action, until Frederik leant behind William to slap him on the back.

“He’s even more of a slut than one of your port town whores, Christoffer.”

Christoffer smiled then, shaking his head as if to rid himself of whichever strange emotion had temporarily afflicted him. “Prettier, too. I would love to see how sweetly he moans when I... or any other man is inside of him.”

“You did well, Berserker,” Bjørn admitted, before gesturing to Christoffer in agreement. “But surely you can allow us to see how well you fuck this insolent little thing? At least once?”

Even brought his hand up from Isak’s back and tugged his hair again. “Unfortunately not. If you saw how prettily he moaned when I fucked him, you would want him for yourself. And I am in no mood for a brawl.”

There were murmurs of disappointment but his excuse was accepted. Because that is what it was; an _excuse_. Isak had spoken out of turn tonight, he knew the price a thrall would ordinarily have paid for that: beating, rape, even death. And yet Even had controlled the situation. He had tempered the rage of the men that Isak had thoughtlessly provoked.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, men, this one is hungry for something bigger inside of him,” Even said, standing up and pretending to pull Isak’s trousers up. And before Isak knew what was happening, he was being hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of flour, his face turned away from the men. He felt a sharp slap to his arse, heard laughter and cheers from the men, and he yelped and tried to wriggle away before Even threw a coin onto the table and marched out with Isak still slung over his shoulder. Isak burned with the humiliation of being paraded like this, past the men of the tavern, and the thralls that waited outside, and those in the village they passed on the way.

When they were on the snowy, umarked track leading up to Even’s house, far enough away that they would not be disturbed, Even stopped suddenly and placed Isak back on the floor. Isak stumbled away slightly, unsure what was to happen now, but Even merely stared at him, making no move to stop him from putting distance between them.

“I am sorry,” Even said. His voice was low and sincere. “I did not know what else to do. Those men… they are animals.”

“They are your men,” Isak said curtly. He turned away and began to walk, needing to focus on anything other than Even, and shivering from the cold.

“Yes, they are,” Even said from behind him, “But that does not mean I agree with their beliefs about thralls.” He caught up with Isak within moments, his body pressed close, and Isak took a few steps away from him again.

“You certainly put in a convincing display. You did not mean any of those words you said? You took no enjoyment in having me on your lap, displayed like that?”

Even stood in front of him then, and put his hands on Isak’s shoulders, bending down to look him in the eye. “I meant the words I said to _you_ , Isak. You surely understand I had no choice? That they would have raped you and killed you for speaking in that way to a free man?”

Isak swallowed sharply. He understood, yes. As much as he wished to lay the blame solely at Even’s feet, he understood that Even had been left with little choice.

“But… as I said… you took enjoyment. I know. I could feel… _you_ ,” he said, his voice low and embarrassed.

“I am a man, Isak. It is true I am flawed. I have… urges, yes. But I have told you I will not hurt you, and I meant it.”

 _And you made me… lose my own senses_ , Isak wanted to say, to accuse. Perhaps he was most angry about that; his body’s response to the terrible situation he had found himself in. He did not want it, he had not asked for it. He most certainly did not understand it.

“What would you have had me do?” Even asked him when he saw that Isak remained unconvinced. “How could I have better controlled the situation?”

Isak opened his mouth to speak but there was nothing. He had no answer to the question because he knew that Even had merely done what he needed to in order to get Isak out of the tavern alive.

“In any case, I am sorry. I am sorry that you had to… experience that,” Even continued when he saw Isak was not able to offer an alternative.

Isak shook his head and found himself saying, “You do not need to apologise.” Though he surprised himself by saying these words, he realised that he meant them. “It was stupid of me to… to say that, about Eva.”

“You were very close to her?”

Isak nodded, not trusting himself to talk, for fear of crying.

“Then it was not stupid of you. She is your friend and you could not bear to hear of her being taken in that way. I understand it now.”

“Thank you,” Isak said. And then he said it again. “And… thank you for… for protecting me.”

Because that is what it had been. Protection. Yes, it had been frightening, knowing how defenceless he would have been if Even had truly chosen to act out his words. But Even had not done so. He had merely created the illusion of punishment.

“I told you,” Even said simply. “I would never let them harm you.”

The words broke Isak; he moved forward, his arms circling around Even’s waist, his head pressed into his chest. He needed to experience physical contact, to remind himself that a touch did not need to be sexual; his body was still tense and shaken from the events at the tavern and he desperately needed to expel them from his mind.

Even stood rigidly for a moment, as though he did not understand the action of a hug, but then Isak felt strong arms encircle him, and Even moving him closer. The comfort and stillness of his arms, and the quiet of the winter night, was like an antidote to what he had been through and he gave into it fully, letting Even squeeze him until all he was aware of was the beating of their hearts.

 _This does not change anything_ , Isak told himself. _He is still a murderer. He is still the Berserker._

But the certainty of his beliefs seemed to falter somewhat, and he found himself unwilling to confront the reasons behind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Threats of violence, death, mutilation. Verbal descriptions of non-consensual sexual violence. Dubious consent - touching, groping. Fear of rape. Voyeurism.
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Drinking horns - It was common for vikings to drink from beautifully crafted horns, often marked with runes and other engravings. However they would also have drunk from cups (here described as tankards) as well.
> 
> Ale - This was a common alcoholic drink; even children drank it, though ale served at home would have been much weaker than ale served to adults for recreational use.


	7. I Come With Knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eva and Isak meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slightly later in the day update guys! The AO3 blackout set us back a bit but we're back on track. The action starts to pick up this chapter with old characters being reintroduced. After teasing it for weeks, we'll be revisiting Eva and some other characters.
> 
> And thank you for all your lovely comments last chapter! Isak is slowly starting to trust Even but things are definitely going to get more complicated moving forward. We hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Triggers warnings in the end note as usual. This chapter is a bit dark so please read them if you need them.

**Chapter 6 - I Come With Knives**

_The monotony_

_And the rising tide_

_Is under my skin, is crawling inside_

_Adrenaline to rewire my mind_

_I'm only human, I come with knives_

[ I Come With Knives, IAMX ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nt0MkotVIEc)

 

**Eva**

The market was loud and bustling with children and women examining cloth, wares, and food for the winter. A market was a happy and festive occasion for any village, she knew that from her true home. But standing here in this freezing foreign land, Eva was miserable.

Her bare head pebbled with goosebumps at the sharp winds but nobody seemed to notice. These cold hearted people were accustomed to it, while she longed for the warm wind of Jutland.

She was still shaking like a leaf, wrapped in the _rag_ Nikolai had given her and called a cloak, when she saw the back of a familiar golden head.

Isak was leaning into his master’s chest and looking up, his mouth stretched in a smile as he spoke. He played along prettily, but he was a bit too stiff. Eva knew the look of fear well. He deferred to his master like a good pet, but it must be an act. Isak was not submissive or shy, he was petulant and rude on the best of days. This persona was a lie.

 _How could it be anything else?_ She wondered.

His master’s hands held his waist, keeping him close and ushering him through the market. He was tall, taller than even Isak. She had always thought Isak tall. Slender, of course, but still of generous height. Standing in the cage of his master’s arms he looked small and weak. Her stomach churned with fear at the thought of how Isak’s master could have violated him since she had last seen him.

She pushed her way through the market, trying to get closer to Isak. He did not seem to notice her, his eyes solely for his master.

Eva weaved and slid past bodies, until they were stood only a foot paces apart. Her on one side of a merchant’s table, and him on the other. She coughed loudly but Isak did not look her way.

_By the Gods._

She needed Isak to see her. Feeling desperate, she considered something truly foolish. No one was looking her way, too occupied with the merchants and their wares. With that in mind, she knocked over a display of fruit, sending the colourful array to the market floor. People screamed and climbed over the mess, and the ruckus was enough for Isak to finally look up and meet her eyes.

Isak froze like a doe and she smiled at him. He smiled back tentatively, his eyes wet with emotion. Eva needed to hold him and to be held back but how could they?

For now, this would have to be enough. She gestured to a mostly empty merchant stand on the edge of the market. Isak saw where she was looking and nodded before turning back to face his master.

Eva walked over to the merchant display and examined the wares while watching Isak from the corner of her eye. He seemed to be seducing his master, playing the part of the sweet indulgent thrall as he stroked his master’s jaw line. Isak had always been a good pretender. If playing along prettily saved him a beating, she could not judge him for it. His master seemed to allow his request and Eva saw him press two coins into Isak’s open hand before reluctantly letting go of his waist.

Isak sidled up beside her, keeping his eyes on the wares. Eva felt like she could shake out of her skin. Isak was right beside her and she wanted to reach out and touch, but they needed to keep up appearances. Thralls did not have friends.

“Are you okay?” she asked desperately, her voice little more than a whisper.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Isak said quickly. She struggled to detect a lie. “How are you? Have you seen Vilde?”

“I haven’t seen Vilde since we were taken,” Eva said, her eyes clouding at the mention of her sweet friend. “I do not know what happened to her.”

“She is well and alive,” Isak said quickly and Eva felt her heart soar. At least Vilde was safe.

“But what about you?”

“I’m doing as well as I’m able,” Eva said curtly. She did not need Isak’s pity.

“Don’t lie. Eva. He ruined your hair.”

Hair was the most frivolous thing she had lost. She almost laughed at that being the thing Isak noticed the most. He was still her foolish friend.

“I wish that was the only thing he had ruined,” she said darkly, and Isak’s entire body recoiled. She immediately felt bad for wielding her words like a weapon. Her suffering was not his fault.

“Forgive my tongue, but we do not have much time. I need to see you again, we’ll talk more then.”

“Where will we meet?” Isak asked, eager now.

“In two moons at my master’s homestead. He spends long hours away during the day. He will not notice. It is the stone homestead on the hill near the edge of the village. It is to the right of the tavern. You will not miss it.”

Isak nodded and she thought he meant to leave, but instead he brushed his fingers over hers. He rubbed his thumb over the pale of her hand before pulling away. They had often held hands as children so they would not get lost in the woods surrounding their village. Now as adults, all they had was this. Eva waited a few moments for Isak to walk away from her before she too stepped away from the merchant stand and turned to leave.

She yelped in surprise when she bumped into a hard chest. The man facing her now looked vaguely familiar and that is when she remembered; he was one of the pillagers. The handsome one who had talked of taking Isak. Although he smiled down at her with a charming boyish grin, he was no boy. Just another savage who delighted in raping and plundering for sport. She pushed away from him in thinly veiled disgust. When he did not speak, she tried to walk past him, but he moved and stood in her way.

She felt liquid fear curl down her spine but then a defiant part of her whispered, _I’m not afraid of a boy who looks little more than twenty winters old._

“I’m Christoffer,” he said, the same smug smirk playing on his wiry mouth.

 _I didn’t ask_ , she thought sardonically as she squinted at him.

He tsked, fingers ghosting over her shorn off hair. She flinched away from the contact before he pulled his hand away.

“You know, I never understood why some of the men insist of mutilating their new thralls like this. It seems a waste to ruin something so beautiful.”

Did he think she was stupid? A line like that, with such obvious lecherous intent, could make a baby cry.

When she stayed silent and merely raised an eyebrow at him, he seemed to falter, clearly at a loss. He looked puzzled, like his quick tongue had never failed him before.

“And the village has been looking beautiful lately,” he added. His voice became wistful at that, and oddly honest. Eva could not believe he was talking about her own beauty. She was not an unconfident woman, she knew she had been one of the most lovely girls in her small village, with her long auburn hair and her wide hips. Now, with her hair shorn off and her body thin from hunger, she was a shadow of herself.

Eva followed his eyes and amongst all the ruckus of the market, the screaming children, and the merchants, she saw that they were fixed on Isak.

He was back with his master, pressed to his chest as he picked out seeds from the market. She wondered why his master was buying them. Nothing grew in this forsaken place. But then the merchant wrapped the seeds in a pouch and handed them to Isak who smiled in thanks, before being pulled away by his master. Her stomach sunk when she realized, _The seeds were a gift for Isak._

With her own head bare and her belly empty, for a mad second, she was jealous of Isak’s still-present curls and his seemingly easy smile. She was immediately ashamed. Underneath her own clothes, she ached between her legs where she had been taken and her back burned from Nikolai’s attentions. She did not know what Isak had suffered in her absence.

When she looked back to Christoffer’s hungry gaze, she knew if he ever laid his hands on Isak, he would only suffer more.

“What do you want?” she spat out viciously, trying to pull his attentions away from Isak. His master seemed a possessive one, if the hand spanning Isak’s waist was any indicator, but she was no fool. Eva knew that she and Isak were merely possessions to these men, and possessions could be _shared_.

Christoffer grinned wider now, happy that he goaded her into speaking. _He’s probably happy that he has a grievance he can bring to Nikolai,_ Eva thought bitterly. If she was going to be punished for being rude to Christoffer, she might as well make the flogging worth it.

“Keep your eye away from Isak,”she said bluntly.

“So his name is Isak,” he said lightly, looking amused at her slip-up. _The Gods damn him._ Her angry face wobbled with fear, and he noticed, his smile fading at the seams.

“You need not concern yourself. The Berserker is a famously reclusive man. He would not share your friend with me, even if I did dare ask.” He sounded resentful at that, like he had considered it. Men were truly disgusting.

“And I do not want anything from you, Eva. I just wanted to tell you it might not be a good idea to collude with other thralls in the village market for all to hear.”

He winked before patting her on the shoulder and sidling past.

So he had heard her and Isak talking and their hushed plan to meet in the upcoming days. Her hands trembled with fear so she tucked them under the pits of her arms to calm herself. Would he tell Nikolai? How much had he heard them say?

But the more pressing question that weighed on her was; how had he known her name?

 

* * *

 

Eva was curled up on the cold stone floor of the stable, her new bed and home, when the door slammed open. She stayed frozen on the floor. The first few nights she had fought back, screaming and kicking until eventually she left one jagged cut from her nail on Nikolai’s face. Her small defiance had been repaid with a savage flogging that left her bed bound for days. She did not have it in her to fight anymore.

Instead of rolling her over and taking her as she was accustomed, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her from the ground.

“Get up and clean yourself,” he said coldly, “We are going to my brother’s house and I can not have you embarrassing me with your foul stench and face.”

Eva nodded and followed him into the main house. There was a basin of water and a rag waiting for her in the kitchen and she almost sobbed at the sight of it. She had not been allowed the privilege of a bath in weeks. This is what she was accustomed to in Jutland. But in Jutland the sun burned bright and she did not dirty herself with dirt and grease or the _attentions of men._ She stunk of all of those things and she ached to get them off.

Though her face was blank, Nikolai seemed to notice her relief, and he did not like it. “Do not get used to such a luxury,” he hissed. She flinched which made him smile sardonically before, thankfully, leaving her to her devices. When she was sure he was gone, she shucked off her dress, and her stockings. The water was cold when she slid in, but she cried out from the the burning off it against the raw flesh of her back.

Still, Nikolai was right. She could not get used to such a luxury, it would make it all the harder when she was denied a bath in the future. So she scrubbed quick and efficiently, not letting herself enjoy the feeling of cleanliness.

When she was done, she slid her dress back over her head and pulled her stockings up her damp legs. Just as she was adjusting her skirts, Nikolai came storming back into the kitchen like a storm cloud. He frowned, obviously disappointed that he had not managed to catch her in a state of humiliating nakedness.

“Hasten your pace, we are leaving now.”

She followed him quickly, his long legs making it hard to keep pace. Nikolai slid his bearskins over his shoulders and Eva similarly pulled her thin cotton cloak around her before they set out.

It was a particularly violent night. The wind cut deep, lashing Eva’s round cheeks like a whip. Her boots trudged through the snow that seemed to seep in through the seams, soaking her thin stockings with cold ice.

Nikolai seemed unbothered as always and in fact seemed to quicken when he saw Eva struggling behind him.

They walked for what could have been hours, the cold making it hard to keep track of time, before they stopped at a large homestead. It was far grander than Nikolai’s, Eva noted. She wondered, _Why did Nikolai’s younger brother have a large homestead when Nikolai was the first son?_

Nikolai rapped on the door aggressively. Eva allowed herself to smirk when Nikolai hissed, clearly bruising his knuckles on the sharp wood.

The door opened and there stood Nikolai’s brother. William, she recalled. He was taller with black eyes and dark brown hair. He was the man who had taken Vilde. Eva hoped he had a kinder temperament than his brother.

Standing next to him was someone she had seen only hours prior.

_Christoffer._

When Christoffer saw her, he smiled. She longed to slap away his smug expression with the meat of her hand.

William and Nikolai were turned away from both of them, talking in hushed voices about whatever pillagers cared for. Eva did not take notice, her eyes wide and fixed on Christoffer’s smirk.

He seemed entertained by her fearful expression but then he pursed his lips together and mimed locking it before tossing the ghost of a key over his shoulder. _Does he think this is a game?_ she thought angrily. She supposed it was to him. To her, it was a matter of life and death. Nikolai would kill her and report her plan to Isak’s master who would surely beat him.

She and Christoffer were forced to look away from each other when William and Nikolai pulled away from their conversation.

“Eva, outside.” Nikolai nodded at the open doorway and she paused in shock. Surely he could not expect her to wait outside in this bitter cold? She would freeze to death.

William seemed to agree, because he said, “I do not know how you do things in your homestead but I am not going to have a thrall dying on my doorstep. She can stay inside and eat with my thrall.”

Nikolai seemed irritated at being undermined by his younger brother but he restrained himself. It would look childish to insist on such an unimportant matter.

William stared him down his face impassive and Eva could feel the tension crackle between them.

“Very well. Go on then, girl.” He spat out _girl_ so viciously, she knew she would be beaten later, as if William insisting on her staying inside was her fault.

She bowed her head and walked past the three men until they were out of sight. Only then did she dare raise her head. The house was more vast than Nikolai’s but just as cold and impersonal.

She walked past several closed doors until she heard a familiar high pitched giggle.

Her entire body weakened at the sound. It was a laugh she had heard a thousand times and she would recognize it before all things.

She tentatively stepped into the doorway and then she saw her, looming over a pot and humming to herself.

Vilde.

Her heavy footsteps gave her away, and that’s when Vilde looked up and saw her. Her pink mouth gaped for a moment before she screamed, “Eva!” and ran, throwing her soft arms around her.

Vilde smelled as she always did, of rain and sweetness; it was almost like coming home.

“Oh, I missed you,” Eva cried out desperately, curling her fingers in the soft down of Vilde’s blonde hair. Vilde burrowed deeper in her arms, like she could plant herself there.

“I missed you too,” Vilde said in a small voice before pulling away to cup her face. When she fully took in Eva’s shorn head and her gaunt face, her smile dropped. “What has he done to you?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Eva forced herself to harden in the face of Vilde’s concern. If she allowed herself to cry and curl into her arms like a babe, she would never stop. So she shook her head and said, “Never mind me, how are you? Has your master been kind to you?”

Vilde gasped girlishly before smiling. Eva let her fingers fall to the edges of that smile before Vilde sighed and wistfully said, “Oh yes, William is lovely.” She did not seem to be lying but Eva couldn’t find any reason for her sweet disposition. William may not have been cruel like Nikolai but surely he couldn’t be...kind? The blank faced man she had seen seemed like he had never experienced a positive emotion in his life.

Eva was going to inquire more of William, her mind racing to make sense of Vilde’s reaction, when soft footsteps sounded behind them. Eva immediately flinched and spun around, expecting Nikolai to be standing there ready to beat her for whatever transgression he had imagined.

Instead, a woman stood there. Eva had never seen a woman like her before. She wore a white cotton dress and had pale blonde hair that was spun in intricate braids. They were so long they skimmed her waist. Eva’s hair had once done that, and it made her envious. The most peculiar thing about this woman was her blood red mouth. It was painted and looked almost violent against her pale skin. She looked…

“Vulgar, isn’t it?” she said, smiling at Eva’s shocked expression. She must have been the lady of the house. Eva almost dropped down to kneel, before Vilde grabbed her arm and tugged her up.

“You don’t need to do that. Noora’s a friend,” she said, smiling encouragingly. Eva couldn’t understand how a thrall could be friends with a _lady_ but she stood up at Vilde’s request.

Noora smiled serenely and said, “You do not need to hold your tongue around me. I do not care for the status enforced on any of us by men. In fact, I was a thrall once. It means nothing.” And then she swept past both of them to sit at the small table.

 _Noora_ had been a thrall once? Eva found that hard to believe with her perfect hair and delicate face. Still, Eva supposed that she too had been beautiful once herself.

“Oh, Noora. I love your hair.” Vilde said, letting her fingers curl into Noora’s braids to tug on them childishly. Eva stared at her with wide eyes, expecting Noora to slap away Vilde’s curious fingers. But she just smiled and said, “Thank you. I would braid yours too If you would allow it.”

Vilde smiled but frowned before saying, “I’m not as lovely as you though. It wouldn’t look right.”

Eva did not agree. Even with her short blonde hair, Vilde was the most beautiful woman in the room. Vilde was home and family, but more than that she was goodness. Noora seemed kind, but she was not Vilde.

“I think you’d look lovely with it.” Eva found herself saying. Vilde turned to her, eyebrows raised before smiling shyly.

“I need to finish cooking.” She said quietly. Eva hated when she did this. It was the one thing that had not changed since they were children. Vilde had never been able to take a compliment.

She hesitantly sat down at the table with Noora as Vilde went back to the crackling pot, watching them from the corner of her eye.

“So,” Noora said lightly, “Do you think my lip paint is vulgar? William said I should not wear it outside the homestead because it makes me look like a common whore.”

“He’s wrong,” Eva said insistently. She had not been allowed to speak freely in ages. “You look beautiful.” She blushed at her honesty but Noora smiled at her.

“Thank you. You are the first woman to say so. Or, the first person. Do you know Gunnhild called me a harlot for wearing paint to market?” Eva did not know who that was but she nodded so Noora continued, “I nearly spat on her. Women who gossip about other women go to Hel.”

Eva said, “Really?” because she did not know the customs of these people, but Noora laughed, “No, but I wish it were true. Our lives are already hard because of men, we do not need to make it harder for each other.”

Eva felt her eyes mist at the compassionate words and Noora’s smile softened into something more maternal.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Eva,” she answered quietly, coughing to clear her throat from tears.

“And you and Vilde are friends? You were taken from the same settlement together, yes?”

“Yes,” Vilde answered, over Eva’s shoulder. She placed bowls of broth in front of them both and then one for herself before sitting down. Eva’s stomach groaned at the smell but she restrained herself. She would not act like an animal in front of someone as proper and kind as Noora. “But we were not taken alone. Our friend, Isak was also taken, among others.”

“Isak.” Noora said carefully, “I think I have heard this name before. He was the boy taken by Even.”

 _So his name was Even_ , Eva thought. A deceptively simple name for someone also called The Berserker.

“I saw him today,” Eva said. Vilde startled at that, looking up with wide eyes. “He looked well. Healthy and unharmed. His master seemed...kind,” Eva said hesitantly. She did not know what she had seen today, but there was no other explanation for it. Even had bought Isak a frivolous gift, when her own master could barely feed her. Isak’s body was unmarred and he looked well fed. The only word for that in the world of savages was _kindness_.

“He is not kind!” Vilde yelled, making both Noora and Eva jump. Vilde rarely raised her voice and when she did, the high note made everyone take notice. Vilde looked sheepish at her outburst but she continued.

“William took me to the tavern three moons ago, I was not allowed inside so I was left with the other thralls. I heard a ruckus. Screaming. It sounded like Isak.” Vilde’s voice started to shake. “I don’t know what they did to him but I saw him when he left. His master was carrying him over his shoulder and Isak looked...unkempt. Far more than he was when he arrived.” Vilde did not elaborate but they both knew what she was suggesting. Eva could not stop herself from covering her mouth in horror.

Had Isak’s master truly taken him in the middle of the tavern? Christoffer had said he was a recluse but that did not denote possessiveness. But perhaps he had not been there that night and had made a mistake.

The thought of Isak being violated like that made her fists curl with bloodlust.

If she ever saw Isak’s master, without the chains of Nikolai on her, she would kill him.

Noora seemed similarly disturbed. “The poor boy,” she said quietly. “The people talk about Even but I never believed any of it. He was always kind to me. Well, as kind as any of these men can be.”

“What do they talk about?” Eva asked, some part of her wanting to know exactly what Isak was going through while another part dreaded hearing the answer.

Noora stirred her broth uncertainly before she said, “When he was a boy, only sixteen winters old, he went on a long expedition, to Frankland I believe. He was glorious, those two months. He killed more men than the warriors years older than him who travelled with him. Erik was very proud.” Noora’s voice became hushed, “But when he came back he killed his mother and father. Their insides were strung up in their bedroom and they had been beheaded.”

Vilde whimpered at the description and Eva, who had always possessed a strong stomach, felt herself hold back a heave. What kind of monster did Isak find himself sharing a bed with?

“I suppose it was for their estate but we will never know. There was no proof that he did it. Besides that, Erik defended him vehemently. He said it would be a waste to put such a promising young warrior to death, especially without proof. So Even was left alone. Still, it is an unspoken truth in this village. He is left to his seclusion by the villagers and he leaves them alone. It is curious that he took your friend. He has never taken a thrall before, despite his status as a warrior.”

Of course, Isak would find himself in the clutches of the worst monster in this village. Only the Gods knew what he was doing to Isak who was isolated at the homestead.

“Let’s not talk of this anymore,” Vilde said insistently, and they all silently acquiesced.

The ate their broth in silence but Eva’s mind was racing. When there was a knock on the door she flinched, like Nikolai could hear her thoughts.

“Good evening Noora,” Nikolai’s voice filled the room like a bucket of cold water. “You are looking well.”

Noora smiled and nodded but it looked more like a grimace after her wide smiles from before. Eva kept her eyes on her bowl, quickly bringing hand to mouth, before Nikolai inevitably pulled her away.

He grabbed her arm, hoisting her from her chair and pushing towards the doorway. “Outside. We are leaving now.”

“Wait,” Noora said, and then she walked over and leaned in close, pressing something into Eva’s hand. She wondered what it was but then Noora whispered, “Do not give up under his attentions. He always gets bored after a while,” before stepping away. Their eyes met and there was a mutual understanding there.

Nikolai had raped her too.

Eva only had a moment to realize this before Nikolai pulled away, his grip on her hand bruising. She saw Vilde give her a longing look before she lost sight of her.

She kept her eyes on the floor as Nikolai said his goodbyes to William, and then Christoffer. She didn’t dare look up to see if Christoffer was smiling at her. She would know if he had told Nikolai soon enough.

Nikolai opened the door and she stayed two paces behind, her head bowed deferentially. Her shoulders were so tight with tension that she almost tripped when Nikolai suddenly stopped. When he turned to her she was sure she would be struck, but instead he pulled her hand to his chest, uncurling it to reveal Noora’s gift.

“A ribbon?” He laughed, pulling the luxurious fabric from her hand. “Women truly are foolish creatures.” He threw it to ground, crushing it into the snow, underneath his foot. Eva looked down at it, not wanting to give away her longing. Nikolai loved to torment her and she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset.

“You know William was telling me about your friend. That boy you tried to protect at your settlement.”

Eva did not offer a response and he did not seem to want one because he continued.

“It seems Even has finally taken to sharing him. It was a quite the night at the tavern, I heard. A shame I missed it.”

She did not flinch at his words and he seemed annoyed by that.

“Perhaps next time I will follow Even’s lead and share you with the men. It would be selfish of me to keep you all to myself.”

Eva finally whimpered in fear and Nikolai smiled, finally satisfied, before walking again.

She trembled in fear at what he had described but she also felt relief. For all the good it would do her; Christoffer had not betrayed her.

Eva knew in that moment; she had to find a way to get all of them out of this terrible place that had been forsaken by all the Gods she knew of. She would not survive under ownership much longer, and if what they said about _The Berserker_ was true, neither would Isak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Implied Off-screen rape, Past rape, Suspicion of rape, Mentions of Flogging
> 
> Facts -
> 
> \- Unlike other Europeans at the time, Vikings were exceedingly clean. Vikings who settled in the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms were considered odd 'clean freaks' for bathing weekly as it was considered an unnecessary luxury.  
> \- In Viking culture most meals were eaten on laps and instead of utensils, hands were used.


	8. Oh My My

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak and Eva meet in secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter to you! We will always aim to get it updated at least once a week but we still hope, for the most part, to update twice weekly as usual.
> 
> There were a few questions last chapter around the phrase 'moon' and whether that meant a month or something else; it simply means a night in the context we're using it here.
> 
> We hope you enjoy the chapter. Trigger warnings (please heed them for this chapter if you need to as they are quite strong again) and terms can be found at the end by clicking the link below. As always, we'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings. <333

**Chapter 7 - Oh My My**

_Oh my my, oh my my_

_You never stood a chance_

_You never stood a chance_

_Oh my my, oh my my_

_You're in over your head_

You're in over your head

[Oh My My, Ruelle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FF0QiTINIeo)

**Isak**

Isak’s stomach had been churning with nervousness for days since his encounter with Eva. He was certain Even must have seen him, that he was somehow aware of the betrayal Isak was considering. But to the contrary, Even seemed entirely ignorant. It had been two moons since their visit to the market, and he had not accosted him once about his fleeting conversation with Eva. Still, Isak remained tense when the day arrived. The day of his second, even more forbidden meeting with his friend.

It was typical, Isak seeing Even off before he left for the day. But with thoughts of disobedience in his head, Isak could not stop himself from wishing that Even would leave quicker. Of course, today of all days, he lingered. Isak tried not to let his annoyance show as Even slid on his boots and turned to him.

“I will see you tonight,” he said, staring down at him intensely.

 _Was that a threat?_ Isak thought. _Does he know?_

Isak squirmed under his gaze before nodding and saying, “You will.”

He knew he should leave now, turn his back to Even so he would not see the treachery that he was planning on his exposed face. But he couldn’t look away from those damned eyes.

His lingering had gone on for far too long when Even leaned forward and brushed his full lips across Isak’s forehead chastely. Usually, Isak would freeze at any form of affection from Even, convinced it was a precursor to something more lecherous. Today, he relaxed into it, Even’s kiss loosening the knot in his shoulders like a remedy.

“Calm yourself. You have been as tight as a whip these past few days.”

 _Because I’ve been planning to escape for the day,_ Isak thought sardonically, thankful that Even did not know the truth.

 _If he knew the truth; that I was planning on leaving the homestead, he’d whip me raw and tie me to his bed._ The dark thought had no basis in reality. Even had not yet thrashed him, much less taken a whip to his skin. However, the fear that this thought struck in him motivated him to keep up appearances. At least for a little while.

“I’m sorry,” Isak said, letting his eyes fall down to Even’s collarbones, in feigned bashfulness. “I cannot help but dream about it sometimes. What happened at the tavern.”

Even stiffened like stone at his words before bringing his large hands down to pull Isak closer, until his forehead rested against the warm hollow of his neck.

The warmth was comforting. So when Isak spoke again, he did not lie. “It frightens me. I dream of what would have have happened if you were someone crueller. Or if you were not there at all.”

Isak’s body betrayed him when he trembled and his eyes grew damp with salt. “I’m scared. Of this place.” _This is just acting_ , he convinced himself. _Let him see you as a scared child and he will never suspect the thoughts in your head._

But Isak realised in that moment; he _was_ a scared child.

Even groaned like Isak has wounded him before bringing his hands up to run them through Isak’s golden curls. Isak leaned into the warm touch. Even traced the shell of Isak’s ear with a callused thumb before drawing it down the line of his jaw, making him shiver.

Isak did not dare tilt his head up to look at Even and after a moment he said, “As long as you are with me, you have nothing to fear. I promise.” Isak knew that was a lie. Even was what he feared most of all, with his unpredictable nature and his deceptively blue eyes.

As if he knew Isak did not believe him, Even continued, his voice darker. “I told you once and I’ll say it again until you remember. I’ll cut off the hands of anyone who touches you.”

The violent words should have made Isak recoil in horror or disgust, but instead, he felt something warm curl in his stomach. It made him feel guilty. His reaction to hearing Even proclaim he would kill anyone who touched should have terrified him. But somehow it did not.

“That is very kind of you,” Isak said dryly. He meant for it to sound sweet and indulgent but his thinly veiled disdain at his own mind’s betrayal was evident. At least the disdain was. He expected Even to chastise him for being insolent but, then, the North man never did what Isak expected.

Instead, Even chuckled against the crown of his head. “I know it is not kind. It is pure selfishness on my part. I only have kindness left for you.”

The words were clearly romantic and they made something guilty pool in Isak’s stomach. They were far too romantic for Isak to think about right now. They were not appropriate. None of this was. So he pulled away from Even’s chest until he was standing parallel to him again, a mere hair’s breadth away.

“I do not wish to keep you from your men,” Isak said pointedly, reminding Even that his duty was outside, not in this homestead with Isak.

However, Even did not look away. His blue eyes remained fixed on Isak like he expected him to answer his proclamation. _How can I answer that?_ Isak thought.

After a pause Even said, “Yes. You are right.” He slid his wolfskins on to his broad shoulders before nodding at Isak. “I need to hasten myself.”

Isak stood by dutifully, waiting for Even to leave. When he opened the door, allowing Isak a glimpse of the white terrain,  he faltered before turning back and saying, “Do not bother with dinner tonight. Instead, ease your mind. Perhaps practice your reading.” Isak already practiced it every day. He read the inscription _Murdered by son Even_ often, to remind himself of who Even truly was. The thought was sobering. And it was what Isak needed in order to stay strong.

“I will,” Isak said, smiling. Even nodded at him before leaving, the door banging behind him. Once he was gone, Isak let his smile drop. He had to get out of here.

Without Even in the homestead, looming over his shoulder, time seemed to move more quickly. Isak hurried into his humble room, lifting up the edge of his sleeping roll to reveal the pouch of coin he kept tucked in between the roll and the frame. His fingers trembled with nervousness as he counted. He had thirty two coins. He did not know how much they were worth, but maybe Eva did. Her master obviously trusted her enough to let her go to market alone.

With that in mind, Isak tucked the pouch under the waistband of his leggings before pulling his tunic over them.

He did not expect to be gone long, perhaps a few hours. Even would not be back for nearly double that time. _I will be back before Even returns and he will never know I left the homestead,_ he convinced himself. Sometimes it seemed like Even could see right through him. His ignorance over the past few days, however, was evidence that he was not all-seeing and all-knowing.

Isak would not be foolish like the last time he set out. This time, he put on another tunic and thick socks before putting on his boots. The old bearskins Even had given him were warm but Isak also wrapped himself in a thick cloak.

Finally, when he was positively sweating from the heat, Isak opened the heavy wooden door and set out.

He was careful, navigating the icy dunes so he did not slip and fall. Logically, he knew the bear traps had been filled by Even. But Isak’s time in the hole had left a sizeable impression and so he walked with care. Although it seemed endless, eventually he reached the edge of Even’s land, and the dirt road to the village. He tried to follow the route Even had taken him that evening to the tavern, and again to the market some days later.

He walked for what felt like hours, his feet heavy when weighed down by a thicket of bearskin and snow. When the village came into sight he audibly sighed with relief. His time as Even’s thrall had made him soft. In Jutland, he would run around from dawn to dusk until his skin grew gold and his limbs ached with tiredness. Here, he was only expected to cook and smile prettily. It was demoralising.

In the early hours of the day, no one paid him any mind. The town was bustling with people. Merchants dragging their carts, Mothers herding small children, and of course, pillagers. This entire village was full of pillagers. Isak kept his head down, and his hood drawn, when he vaguely recognised one of them. He most likely had been one of the men who had taken Isak from his settlement.

Once the men were out of sight, Isak tilted his head up and looked around curiously. Eva had told him her master’s homestead was at the edge of the village, to the right of the tavern. Isak did not where the edge was but he knew where the tavern was.

He followed his memory cautiously, weaving through people until he saw the familiar exterior of the tavern. So, he listened to Eva’s instruction and went right. The amount of people lessened as he neared the scrubland, until he once again walked alone and in silence.

The homestead he was heading towards seemed almost as reclusive as Even’s. Almost.  

When Isak came to a hill, he frowned, before he realised; the homestead must be at the top.

He sighed in annoyance before beginning the trek up. His legs burned as he climbed. How in the names of the Gods did Eva do this everyday?

When he saw the stone homestead Eva had described, he nearly let out an exclamation of relief before remembering the need for discretion.

He gave himself a moment to collect himself and steady his breathing, before he approached the door and tentatively knocked. The homestead was smaller than Even’s but somehow more imposing with its cold laid stones.

The door opened and Isak saw Eva. He had a sharp joke on the tip of his tongue about the awful hill, but then he looked upon her face. Her beautiful, ruined face.

“What happened?!” Isak asked, pushing into the homestead so he could cup her jaw line. When his thumb pressed against the purpling around her eye, she flinched and pushed him away.

“You know what happened. Now come inside before someone hears you yelling.”

Numb with anger and shock, Isak let Eva shove him behind her before closing the wooden door. When she turned back to him again, her face impassive but still undeniably bruised, he felt his anger reignite.

“Your master, he did that to you?”

Eva shrugged. Isak could not see how she was so unbothered when he could feel himself itching to hurt the man who had done this.

“It is the way of North men. Surely you understand?”

 _But I don’t,_ Isak thought. Yes, Even was a monster who had killed his parents. But Even was also a man who stroked his hair and told him not to be afraid. Though he feared him, Isak had been given no reason to believe that Even would strike him.

The thought of his own passive master, as he witnessed Eva’s abuse, made his face burn with guilt. So he nodded, as if he too understood the ways of these _North men._

Eva strode past him, leading him into the homestead. It was mostly bare of furnishings and all the colder for it. Isak could feel the chill seep into his boots despite the fact that he was inside.

“Sit,” Eva said, nodding at the two pieces of furniture in the common area, wooden benches with no cushioning. Isak sat down tentatively, as Eva sat on the one across from him. He could not stop himself from staring at the vibrant purple bruising around her swollen eye, and the hint of raw skin at the nape of her neck. She rested her head on her hand and said, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m sorry but I cannot,” Isak said vehemently. Eva had looked so full of life at the market. Isak knew now it was because he had missed his friend so ardently. He had not wanted to see the truth. Staring at her here, under the dim candle light, she looked like a shadow of herself.

“Any man that would do this to a woman is disgusting,” Isak heatedly said. “He deserves nothing less that Hel.” Eva looked up at that, smiling like he had said something foolish.

“Hel? You still believe in that. Look at where we find ourselves.” Eva gestured at the cold, empty room before turning back at Isak. “Me, bruised and owned by a monster. Vilde, forced into servitude and you…” Eva trailed off before taking a deep breath. “You, forced to share your bed with a murderer who killed his own parents.”

Isak flinched at Eva’s words. She knew about Even’s parents. It was common gossip, then. But she did not know that Isak had never shared Even’s bed. Even had not made home between Isak’s thighs even once. It seemed to cruel to say so when faced with Eva’s reality. He stayed silent.

Eva was still smiling when she said, “There is no Hel because there are no Gods, Isak. We are on our own. And we will die here alone, if we do not escape.”

Eva’s pessimism made Isak’s eyes water. Eva had always been the happiest of the three of them. For many years, Isak had suffered the dark cloud of his mother looming over him, while Vilde had been more focused on pretending to be happy than actually being happy. Eva had always been vibrant and loud. An undeniable source of light in both of their lives. Now she was something made dark.

Isak breathed in deeply, letting his tears dry, before saying, “And what do you suppose we do?”

Eva opened her mouth to answer when the sound of the heavy door opening interrupted her, making them both freeze.

There was nowhere to run and no time to hide. And so they stayed frozen, their eyes wide with fear, until the intruder walked into the common area.

He did not spot Isak at first, but Isak recognised the pale blonde head from the settlement. He was the man who had stripped Isak, and the man who had beaten Eva. Nikolai. Eva’s owner, and not an intruder at all. Simply a free man who had come home far earlier than either of them had been expecting.

“I told you never to sit on the furniture,” he told Eva coldly. It disturbed Isak because he could see a smile curling on the corner of his mouth as he spoke, as if he relished the fact that he had caught her disobeying him.

“I am sorry,” Eva answered, keeping her eyes fixed on Isak. Isak could see the fear written plainly on her face, a mirror of his.

Nikolai followed Eva’s line of sight until he saw Isak, who pressed himself up against the wall.

He appeared surprised before his mouth curled into another sickly smile.

“The Berserker’s thrall, yes?” Isak had barely nodded before Nikolai said, “Or I suppose, my thrall if he had not stolen you away from me.”

Isak tensed up at this words. This was a man who had stripped him and talked of sharing him with his men. A man who had wanted him for that reason alone. A man with a proclivity for beating and raping young thralls.

“Yes, I belong to Jarl Even,” he said, and for once the words sounded like a surety. “And because of that, I must go. He will be expecting me at the homestead for dinner.”

Isak stood up on stiff legs and tried to walk past Nikolai when he was grabbed by his free arm and pulled back into a hard chest.

Isak saw Eva stand up from the corner of his eye and he willed her silently not to do something stupid or rash.

“You need not rush. He will not expect you for some time. He is occupied. And I do not think he would mind if you shared your _time_ with me.”

 _He would cut your hands off if he knew you were touching me,_ Isak thought, remembering the heated words Even had whispered as he held Isak safely against his chest. The warmth Isak had felt then was a distant memory under Nikolai’s cold, unfamiliar touch.

Isak shivered as Nikolai’s thumb pressed into the base of his neck, pulling down the nape of his tunic. It was a cruel mimicry of how he had ripped Isak’s tunic when he had stripped him during their first meeting.

He did not fully react until Nikolai’s hands slid down to rest on his hips, to pull him back and press him into the hardness between Nikolai’s legs.

Isak tried to pull away, but Nikolai held his hips still, breathing heavily against Isak’s neck. It was disgusting.

“Take your hands off me or I swear to the Gods I will tell Even everything. He does not take kindly to people touching what belongs to him.” Isak felt possessed as he spoke. He knew he was not a possession and he did not want to be known as one. But Even was the only thing Isak could use to protect himself in this village of monsters.

He expected Nikolai to step away at Even’s name but instead he laughed, “Oh that is _charming_. He lets you call him Even.” Nikolai pressed a kiss to Isak’s neck making him shiver with disgust. “Did you also call him Even when he fucked you onto his fingers for the whole tavern to see?”

Isak felt his face burn with humiliation but he did not get a chance to reply. He heard a crunch, like the sound of a chicken bone under foot, before Nikolai dropped to the ground like a stone.

He gaped at his limp form before looking up to see Eva standing over him looking as vicious and bright as she had back in their village. Isak would have been happy at the sight if it had not been a response to her doing something incredibly stupid. In her trembling hand was the pot that she had used to bring the North man to the ground. The handle was red and rusted from blood. Nikolai’s blood.

“By the Gods, Eva,” Isak struggled for a moment, taking several deep breaths, before yelling, “What did you do?!”

She seemed taken aback by his anger before replying angrily, “I saved you from him! He was going to rape you and you expected me to sit by and watch!?” She threw the pot to the ground and Isak jumped at the sound. “He could rape me hundreds of times; it’s no matter to me, I can take it.” Her voice trembled with emotion. It may have been the first time she had acknowledged what Nikolai had done to her. “But I could not watch it happen to you too.”

Isak found himself stepping over Nikolai’s limp body and wrapping his arms around Eva’s shaking form. “I’m sorry,” he said and they both knew to what he was referring. Eva shook in his arms, crying quietly against his neck. Isak willed himself to stay silent. This was not about his anguish. Eventually, Eva dried her eyes on Isak’s collar and stepped back.

Isak looked down, at the bloody pot and Nikolai’s limp body before saying, “They will hang us for this.”

Eva nodded and said, “I know,” before picking up the pot and bashing Nikolai over the head again. Isak jumped at the sound, his hands covering his mouth. “That is why we need to get out of here.”

Eva had always been too impulsive, too rash. But Isak had never thought her stupid.

“Are you serious?!” he yelled, but Eva cut him off with a sharp look.

“Would you have us die instead then?”

Isak faltered. Of course she was right. Her actions were foolish but they were done. They could either stay and be hung, or leave and possibly survive. There was a third option: Isak could leave Eva, and say he had not left the homestead all day. Even would believe him and he would stay alive.

But the option was unthinkable. He could not let Eva go through this alone.

“No. You are right.” Isak slid his hands under his tunic, grabbing the pouch of coins tucked away there, “We cannot stay here.”

He opened the pouch showing the coins to Eva. “Even - my Master. He leaves coins around the homestead so I’ve been collecting them. I was hoping to save enough to pay someone to take us away.”

Eva looked at the coins blankly before laughing. He frowned; he never liked being teased.

“Isak this is little more than change for children. It can buy us a few fruits at most.” She shook her head, “Keep it but pay it no mind. We have more important things to worry about.”

She was right so Isak followed her into the kitchen. He watched her throw fruit and dried meat into strips of cloth. She wrapped them quickly, tucking them into a cotton pouch that she tied with a tight knot. “That should last us a few days until we make it to a neighbouring village.”

“I think that will last the both of us quite a bit longer.” Isak said incredulously. She had wrapped so much dried meat that the pouch was bulging. Eva gave him a long look before saying, “It’s not only for the two of us. We’re going to get VIlde.”

Isak could not help himself. He had always put logic first and emotions second.

“Do you really think that’s wise?” he asked bluntly. Vilde was in a homestead somewhere he did not even know. Going to get her would be difficult. Besides that, Vilde was weak. She was not strong like Eva or quick minded like Isak. She would wither out in the cold and inevitably die. Isak did not know if he was able to be complicit in that.

But Eva cut off his frantic thoughts, slamming the pouch on to the table.

“Vilde is our friend,” she said furiously, “We’re not going to leave her here and run off like cowards.”

Isak nodded, feeling cowed by Eva’s emotion. He watched her pack her pouch with more food before she wrapped the strap around her shoulder and strode past him. The put on their bearskins and boots in silence before walking down the steep hill. It was much easier going down than going up but Isak still felt weighed down. Not by the snow this time, but by Eva’s words.

They walked down the snow covered road for a short while before Eva said, “I did not mean to call you a coward.”

Isak shrugged, “It is fine. You’re right after all.”

Eva shot him a glare. She never liked it when he was self deprecating. “Do not say that. I was just angry with you. You know sometimes my temper gets the best of me.”

Isak did know. He had been on the other side of her vicious tongue more times than he could count.

“Your heart does get the best of you but you aren’t wrong.” Isak looked down at his boots as he walked. “I let Nikolai strip me when we were taken while you fought back. And today, I let him do it again. I froze like a coward when I should be a man and fight.” Isak felt the cold seep into his bones as he confessed his fears. “I did not want to get Vilde, not because I do not want to save her but because I cannot bear to see her die out there.”

Eva stopped, grabbing Isak by the shoulders. She was so short that Isak’s lowered head put him at her eye length. She stared intently and said, “You are not a coward, Isak. You did not fight back because you’re smart. You always have been. I’m the idiot who fought back, and look at me now.” She traced the bruise on her eye, “I was taken by a monster because I could not keep my mouth shut.”

Isak shook his head and said, “You’re not an idiot.”

Eva smiled at that and this time, it was familiar. Isak could almost imagine her with her long auburn locks curling around her round face and ears. But then her face dropped and all he could see was her shorn hair and that damned bruise.

They walked in a more amicable, albeit still fearful silence, before Eva stopped at a large homestead made of wood and wide stone. Isak’s thoughts and fears had been so active that he had barely noticed the journey progressing.

“This is where Vilde is. You… you should hide. If either of her masters answer the door, I will make an excuse. But it will look suspicious if both of us are here.”

Isak pressed himself out of sight, against the corner of the homsestead, as Eva knocked on the door, hissing when her skin broke on the sharp wood. After a few moments, the door swung open and Eva’s face lit up in relief. Isak peered round to see Vilde’s familiar fair head and he stepped out from the shadows to meet her.

“Oh, Isak!” she said, her pink mouth falling open in surprise. But then she saw Eva’s bruised face and her bulging pouch. Vilde was innocent but not stupid. It was obvious something was not right.

She closed the door gently behind her, before stepping outside.

“What has happened?” she asked in a hushed voice, “What happened to Eva’s face? Why are you two together? Where are your masters?” She hissed the last part, looking around as if their owners were hiding somewhere.

“We’re running away,” Isak said simply, “We have food and coin and we are making our way to a neighbouring village.”

“Can you escape tonight?” Eva asked abruptly.

Vilde stared at the both of them, her eyes wide before she shook her head.

“No. No, what are you talking about?!” She ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it by the handful. “I cannot run!”

 _We do not have time for this_ , Isak thought. Eva seemed to agree because she asked, “Why not?!” incredulously.

Vilde suddenly looked bashful, looking down and scrunching up her skirts with her hands. She surprised both of them when she said something so bizarre, Isak was sure he had misunderstood her.

“I’m in love.”

“Where did you find love in a place like this?” Isak asked, humouring her so they could leave quicker.

“My master, William.” Isak stared at her blankly until Eva screamed with frustration and turned around, delivering a swift kick to the side of the homestead.

“Are you stupid, Vilde?!”

Vilde whimpered at that, but only Isak could hear it under Eva’s heavy breathing.

“He is so gentle. And so kind,” Vilde said quietly. “I know that one day he will make me his lady wife, like Noora.”

Eva laughed cruelly, making Vilde flinch, “You are a fool,” she said. “You are a thrall. That is all we will ever be to these men. It does not matter how gently they touch you or how sweet they are to you. You are not a person to them. Do you hear me Vilde?!”

Vilde shook her head. She had started crying while Eva was talking and Isak felt something inside him break for her. Eva had never been mean-spirited, even if what she was saying was the truth. Isak could not understand why his own chest had twinged so painfully at her words.

Vilde wiped the tears away from under her eyes before composing herself.

“I wish you the best of luck. You will always be my friends.” She approached Isak first, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before turning to Eva. She leaned in to kiss her cheek but Eva turned her face, allowing Vilde’s kiss to clumsily fall onto her jaw.

Vilde stepped away, her face obviously hurt, before she nodded one last time and went back into the homestead.

“That was cruel,” Isak said bluntly, once Vilde was inside.

“I do not need you of all people lecturing me on cruelty.” Eva said sharply. Isak stayed silent; he knew she was hurting more than he was right now.

She had always loved Vilde more, after all.

They walked down to the road, both of them morose over the bitter goodbye.

“This way,” Eva said, leading Isak past the perimeter of the village. She pointed to the stars. "We must head South, to warmer climates."

All was quiet and dark. Isak imagined Even was already home by now. _He said he would see me tonight_ , Isak thought.

Would he be shocked? Would he be angry? An indulgent part of him wondered whether Even would even miss him. 

He violently shook that idea from his mind. What did it matter if Even missed him? He would never see this man again. They were nothing to each other now except for master and wayward thrall. If he ever returned, Even would kill him.

Isak told himself that he had to believe that in order to continue on this path.

 

* * *

 

The woods were cold and seemingly endless without the prospect of a village anywhere in sight. The air was silent; even the animals that lived here had taken to burrowing themselves deep in the warm ground and protective trees in order to survive. And yet here were the two of them, trying to survive in this ungodly coldness.

Isak tried to continue walking. He tried to keep up with Eva, who despite all she had been through seemed so much stronger. But after hours of passing under the shadows of the trees that loomed large above them, Isak’s limbs were stiff through with cold and each footstep was torture. He could go on no further.

“We need to rest, Eva.”

She turned to him, barely visible in the shadows of the trees that surrounded them. Trees were holy; he thought of Yggdrasil which gave shelter to the Gods and thus protected them all, but here the trees seemed to mock Yggdrasil’s very presence, as though they were monstrous spawns of the life giver.

“We’ll die if we stop.”

“We’ll die if we continue,” Isak said, his teeth chattering.

Eva took in his teeth, and peered at his face, and he saw fear in her eyes before she acquiesced.

“Fine, we will stop. For a short time only. I will try and build a fire.”

They found a pitiful fallen tree and fashioned it into a poor excuse for a shelter. Isak collapsed underneath it, still wrapped in his bearskins, as Eva looked for kindling for a fire. He felt himself drift in and out of darkness, his body jerking occasionally with violent spasms as cold ripped through him.

Laying in the darkness, as the cold consumed him completely, reminded Isak of his fall into the pit. The endless black that had nearly taken his life. And of course, the warm arms that had rescued him and pulled him out.

There was nobody to pull him out this time, and he could feel what little warmth he had left from walking seeping from his body as Eva dumped some paltry twigs close by to him him. In that moment he felt unashamed to say, “I want to go home.”

Eva began to rub flint upon stone. “We are going home, Isak,” she told him firmly.

But he knew in his heart it wasn’t true. As he felt himself start to give into the darkness that consumed his vision, he let out another violent shudder and replied, “No, not that home. My home with Even.”

He felt her stare at him in shocked realisation, her eyes boring into the darkness, before he gave into merciful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Attempted rape, reference to past rape, reference to beatings, 'Stockholm Syndrome' type behaviour, hypothermia.
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Yggdrasil - A vast, holy tree that Norse Pagans believed in. Yggdrasil acted as shelter to the Gods, and mythical beasts were found within. Norse Pagans believed it was the centre of the cosmos and that it extended up to the heavens.


	9. A Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The North men hunt for the escaped thralls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter to you again. With the new season started, and so much content coming through, we'll try hard to continue to give you at least weekly updates, so please be patient with us!
> 
> We hope you enjoy this chapter which gives a little more insight into Even as a character. We'd be really interested to hear your thoughts and feelings!
> 
> Trigger warnings can be found by clicking to the end of the chapter. As always, these contain spoilers for the chapter.

**Chapter 8 - A Nightmare**

_I run through your head_

_Loud with a nightmare_

_Brushing your skin with my breathing_

_Turn out the light_

_And every nightlight_

_Run you can run you can run_

**[The World Was Gone, Snow Ghosts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UMhfJS8HBKM) **

 

**Even**

It had been a long day of battle training, with Erik pushing the North men far further than their physical and mental limits. Even was exhausted. All of them were. Their leader was a hard task master and he wished for them to be well equipped for the next raid, so as never to repeat the debacle in Northumbria.

As hard as he had been on the other men, though, he had been harder still on Even, and Even was well aware of the reason for this.

Erik had clearly decided that Even was being distracted by his ‘pretty new thrall’, as he tended to refer to Isak. It formed the basis for most of Erik’s comments to him recently. And so Even had decided that he needed to be more careful, to play this game on Erik’s level. Recent events had already been pushed far further than he would have liked. Erik’s thinly veiled suggestion that if Even did not show Isak’s face in public, the other North men may have taken it upon themselves to come to the estate in order to see what prize Even was hiding away, had led to the ordeal at the tavern which had almost left Isak broken.

That could not happen again. Even did not wish for a mute, passive slave boy. It was the fire in Isak’s eyes that made him so desirable.

And so Even threw himself into training, though the tug of Isak’s presence in the homestead pulled at him like an anchor, refusing to let Even’s drifting ship be thrown out to the oceans.

He was exhausted by the time they finished for the day. He had worked far harder than any of the other men, but when he looked to Erik for approval, all he received was a small nod. Still, it was better than no acknowledgement at all.

He walked back to the village with the other North men, ignoring their easy banter and their invitations for him to join them at the tavern.

“Strange that Nikolai did not return to training,” he heard Knut mutter to William as Even parted ways with them in order to take the track up to his homestead.

“My brother is strange indeed,” William replied.

Even took the last kilometre quickly, despite his aching joints. He eagerly anticipated the roaring fire, some decent food, and Isak’s riveting presence which reassured Even in a way he had not felt since the time when his parents were still alive.

The main annex of the homestead was empty when he came in, the fire embers dull. He frowned, dusting off the snow on his boots, wondering why Isak had let it die. He was well aware his thrall did not possess much of an appetite for household chores, but the day had been freezing, and the night colder still.

The room was also dim; the lamp lights had run out of oil and his concern grew.

_Something was not right._

“Isak,” he called. “Where are you?”

There was no answer. Perhaps his thrall had simply fallen asleep already. The short, dark days meant sleep became confusing, particularly when unoccupied. He marched through to Isak’s bedroom, expecting to find him there, but the bed was empty.

“Isak!”

His voice grew strained as he ran from room to room, calling Isak’s name. Every single one was empty.

Lighting a torch, he headed outside and called out into the night. “Isak!” There was no answer; no surly, youthful voice that he had grown so familiar with these past few weeks. He ran to the stable, finding his horse sleeping as it stood - he knew that Isak sometimes came out to feed the animal and to pet it, but he was not here either.

He tried to remember if he had filled in every one of those damned bear traps. But he was certain he had; he had checked and rechecked many times since Isak had fallen.

There had been no sign of a struggle in the homestead. That did not mean somebody could not have come to take Isak. The boy was small in comparison to most of the North men and had no training in defence.

 _Calm yourself_ , he thought. _All of our men were at training today._

But then he remembered. _All but Nikolai. Nikolai had left early._

Even climbed up onto his horse and kicked it gently to drive it forward. There was no time to walk; he needed to get to the village as soon as possible. He leant into the neck as the horse broke into a gallop, his hands guiding the steed’s direction with sharp tugs at its mane.

He could feel blood rushing through his ears as he took the journey to the village centre, the tavern in mind. _Would Nikolai have dared take something belonging to me?_ Even knew that Nikolai was petty and insecure, that he would have taken Even’s claiming of Isak as a personal slight. But to _steal_ something precious belonging to Even? Did he truly wish for the brutal, prolonged death that Even would be sure to extract on him? He could feel his skin itch with bloodlust at the thought.

If Nikolai had laid one hand on Isak, he was a walking dead man.

He made short work of the journey and growled at one of the five thralls waiting outside the tavern to take his horse while he was inside. They cleared the way for him, cowering slightly, but he had no time to pay them any mind.

Usually when he entered the tavern it was to the roar of voices made light by the ale being consumed. Tonight, though, it was unusually quiet; a group of men were huddled around one table, their voices low and worried. Even caught a glimpse of Christine as he strode over to them, her eyes wide with concern. She tried to say something to him but Even had seen Nikolai in the centre of the men and he ran towards him now, his body tensed for a fight.

“Where is Isak?!” he roared as he barged past the men to reach the one he wished to kill. “What have you done with my thrall?!”

He grabbed the other man by the tunic, thrusting him away from the group, and he registered briefly that his head was bloodied, his eyes glazed over.

“Berserker, put my brother down!” William warned him, making to draw his sword. “Your thrall and Nikolai’s thrall attacked him.”

Even looked at Nikolai then, realising he was in no fit state to fight, and his anger was quickly replaced by confusion.

“Your little boy whore did this,” William continued, his hand wavering over the hilt of his weapon. “And now they have escaped.”

“He came to my homestead,” Nikolai said, his voice uncharacteristically weak, though he still managed to sneer as he said it. “They conspired against me and then they escaped. I have just come round. This was hours ago.”

Even pulled away, taking a moment to collect himself. The punishment for a thrall found guilty of assaulting a free man was generally death. In rare circumstances, the owner would choose another punishment - usually a severe public beating - but it had been Nikolai who had been attacked, not Even. He could easily call for Isak to be beheaded.

He needed to think quickly. He could not allow Nikolai to take Isak’s life. And he knew the sadistic man would do it in a moment if it meant simply _irritating_ Even.

“You are saying _my_ thrall did this to you?” he asked. “My skinny little waif of a boy?”

He was desperate. If they were to go looking for the two thralls, he needed to ensure that Isak’s ‘crime’ was not made punishable by death.

Nikolai looked at him in confusion and Even pressed home, “You, a mighty warrior of the North, was blindsided by two underfed youths from Jutland? By the Gods, Nikolai, how hopeless do you have to be in combat to have allowed this to happen?!”

There were a few condescending barks of laughter from the other men, and Nikolai bristled at the sound.

“I did not say they attacked me!” he snapped. He looked around. “I… I must have become too lost in my bloodlust when I was fucking them both. Yes, that was it. I cannot remember the events.”

The words reignited Even’s anger but he tried to cool his temper. There was no reason to believe that Nikolai was telling the truth. He was merely trying to save face. And Even needed to take that as a victory.

“Then we can bring them back with little fanfare, yes? I personally do not wish to see my thrall’s pretty neck sliced through with an axe. I will punish him myself for enticing this fine Northern warrior,” he said, clapping Nikolai on the shoulder. “And for running, of course.”

 _I will kill you later_ , he decided, as Nikolai nodded in uneasy accord, clearly still rattled from Even’s baiting.

“We must find them, though,” Nikolai said, his hand at his head, dried through with blood. “I can go out for first watch and -”

“No!” Even snapped. If Nikolai was the one to find Isak, he would not be able to resist harming him. “You must rest. That… bloodlust… will have impaired your vision. I will take out the first party.”

“I am with you,” Christoffer said immediately, stepping forward. A few other men muttered in agreement.

They lit their torches at the firepit and headed to the tavern stable where they mounted their steeds. It was a particularly dark night and Even tried to anticipate where Isak and his friend Eva may have ran to. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to put himself into the mindset of two frightened youths lost in a cold, distant land.

“South!” he said, rearing up on his horse. “We head South.”

Isak’s face remained etched in his mind as the horses thundered through the village, heading into the uncharted territories named simply Askrland for the trees that grew towards the sun there.

As Even leaned into his horse he realised he was exhausted. He had been foolish in neglecting sleep this past week, his mind focused on Isak and the ways in which he wished to be close to him. Today he had pushed himself past his limits, and his joints ached intensely.

This was no time for self-pity. He needed to ride faster, harder. He needed to find Isak.

When they reached the woods, the men broke off into different directions, confident their voices would carry over the silent forest, stripped bare of life in the winter. Even slowed to a trot, and behind him he heard someone following. He looked to see Christoffer, his alert eyes scanning the peripheries as he held his torch up in the dark.

“We will find them, Berserker,” he told him, and Even gave in to the urge to snap back, “Thank you for your reassuring words, _Penetrator_.”

Christoffer smiled at that, clearly unashamed of his own dubious title, and Even chose to pointedly ignore the antagonism. There were more important things at hand.

They searched for some time, their horses easily navigating the flat terrain. With each passing half hour, Even found his body become a little less responsive, his eyes a little less sharper. Sleep was appealing; the urge to pass out, to temporarily forget this nightmare he had found himself in, was more appealing still.

 _You must keep on_ , he told himself, as he felt the darkness take his vision. Isak’s face flashed through his mind again: he thought of his beautiful body frozen through, his wide, expressive eyes sunken in death. He jolted himself back awake, horrified.

“You must not blame Isak,” he heard a voice saying, and he looked across to see Christoffer staring at him with a guarded expression on his face. “Your thrall, I mean. You must not blame him for running.”

 _What concern is it of yours_ , he wanted to ask.

Christoffer took his silence for compliance. “In truth, the other day at the market I heard the girl discussing meeting with him today. I do not think your boy is the… how shall I put it? The _dominant_ one in that relationship.” A smile upturned his mouth but then his expression turned more serious. “I hope you will not be too harsh on him.”

“What I do with my thrall is of no business to you,” Even snapped. He was used to his men throwing out lewd remarks on Isak’s face and his body. It was easy to grit his teeth and imagine killing them before the comments passed. This was somehow more irritating. To have one of his men show actual _concern_ for Isak. Especially Christoffer, who Even knew cared more about himself and his cock than anyone else.

Christoffer nodded at Even’s rebuke. They continued on in silence, and once again, before too long, Even found his body failing him; his limbs were a constant, sharp mass of aching, his eyelids were heavy, and his riding posture was faltering.

He felt the darkness close in for a second time and he tried… he _tried_ to fight it but it seemed impossible. It was cold. It was so cold out here. Isak would freeze out here. Isak was already dead. Surely he must be.

 _He should have been at the homestead, safe with me,_ Even thought angrily. He imagined Isak sitting in the heart of the homestead, wrapped in Even’s bearskins and warm by the fire. When he let his tired eyes fall shut for a moment, the image vanished, and when he opened them all he saw was the harsh reality. A brutal chill and empty blackness. That was what Isak was experiencing right now.

No unequipped boy could survive this relentless coldness.

“Even!” Christoffer snapped at him, waking him up again. “This is madness. You are going to fall from your horse.”

A few of the search party had found them now; they nodded in agreement.

“Some new men have come to join. William, Knut… perhaps it is best if you let them lead now. You can come out again in the morning.”

 _He will be dead by the morning_ , Even realised. _He is most likely already dead now._

But there was no further course of action he could take. He was not able to physically continue; if he stayed out here for the night he would be frozen through by the morning and in no fit state to continue looking. For all the good it would do if he waited for the morning.

“The other party will find them, Berserker. If they are here, they cannot have travelled too far. They do not know this terrain. And we have already scouted a large area.”

Every part of Even wished to resist. If his body permitted it, he would have searched these lands until the end of time, focused only on finding Isak’s body, kissed by icy death. But he was in no fit state to continue looking, and his mind put up its usual defenses, telling him it was futile. Everything he did now was futile.

The boy he had wanted, and taken; the boy he now found himself in love with, was gone.

And in the wilderness of the forestland, where bare trees stood like sentient gods, it seemed to Even that the sun would never reveal itself again.

 

* * *

 

Despite his exhaustion, sleep did not come easily. At least three times he woke to imaginary footsteps outside, Isak’s voice calling him through the dim light of the homestead.

 _Why did you bring me here? Why did you allow me to die?_ the voice asked.

 _Because I needed you_ , he replied silently, throwing his head from side to side as he tried to block out the crying.

And then something happened. The night became lighter, rain began to patter down outside, and he awoke to horses trampling outside, the loud, jeering voices of men on the estate.

His hand went automatically to his sword, wondering if he needed to expect a fight. Or perhaps they had come to rouse him for the next search. But instead the voices seemed to retreat as he padded out from his bedroom in stockinged feet, through to the front of the house where he eased open the door and looked around.

He saw the fading figures of men on horseback, barely visible even in the temporary reprise of darkness in the early morning light. And then he heard a sharp sob and he looked down to see his thrall bound tightly at the door, his head lolling back as he appeared to drift in and out of consciousness.

 _He is alive,_ Even realised, and with that realisation, a weight fell from his shoulders: he let out a sound of relief that pierced the morning air. He dropped his sword and bended at the knees, ignoring his aching joints, and hoisted Isak up into his arms; the boy instinctively curled into him, his freezing body pressing into Even’s warmer one.

Even did not know if he wished to scream with anger at the dire condition Isak was in, or rejoice at the fact that the boy was back in the rightful position of his arms, still breathing, however laboriously.

He brought the boy inside and took him over to the now roaring firepit, grabbing his blanket on the way. He eased him onto the colourful tapestry and stared down at him, attempting to ascertain what he needed to do first in order to care for him. His hands were tied together, as were his feet. When Even stared at his wrists he saw how tightly they had been bound, biting savagely into Isak’s tender skin, enough to make him bleed.

 _Monsters_ , he thought. _He would have put up no physical fight in this condition._

“I… I am… sorry,” Isak gasped out, each word sounding as sharp as a blade in his throat. “Please…”

 _Do not be afraid of me_ , Even wanted to tell him. But he found himself instead trying to physically reassure Isak; he reached to touch the boy’s pale face, horrified at how cold his skin felt, and Isak shrunk away, trying to move his body out from underneath Even.

“Please,” Isak begged, shivering through as he said it. “I am sorry.”

“It is okay. I have you. I have you,” Even told him. “But I must -”

He stood and headed back to the bedroom where he found his other weapons laid out beside his bed, the dagger within arm’s reach of where he had been sleeping. He took it and came back to find Isak still shivering violently, his teeth chattering together.

When he saw Even he began to sob, trying to move, though his body was too weak to comply with his instincts and instead he curled into himself, his small shoulders rising and falling in painful repose.

The sight made Even’s determination to help him even greater; he knelt down beside the boy and ran his hand through the golden curls.

“Isak?” he said. “Isak I need to-”

Isak looked up at him from under long lashes, his eyes distrusting, and when he saw Even was brandishing a knife he attempted to scream, the sound coming out as a small, hoarse cry.

“I… please… sorry…” Tears began to spill from his eyes and Even reached out to swipe one away absent-mindedly, making Isak flinch from him. Even drew his hand back sharply.

“You… my hands… please don’t… don’t cut them off,” Isak begged. “I am sorry.”

Even blinked at the words. _Cut off his hands_. Where would the boy have got an idea such as this from?

And then he remembered the jeering voices as the men had galloped away on their horses. Would these savages have taunted Isak, even as he drifted close to death, on the short journey back from Askrland?

“I am not going to hurt you,” he told Isak, his voice low and steady though inside his head was anger and hatred for the men who had made his thrall respond to him this way. “I need to untie you. That is all.”

Isak stared up at him, apparently not understanding.

“The ropes,” Even continued. “They are too tight for me to untie.”

He watched as Isak looked down, as if realising for the first time he was bound.

“I would _never_ hurt you, Isak. Surely you must see that by now?” he questioned with frustration. He had reassured the boy of it so many times and yet Isak continued not to trust him. _And whose fault is that_ , he asked himself, angrily. He had brought Isak to this strange place, and Isak had experienced nothing but misery here. Of course he did not trust Even. He would have been wise not to trust anyone.

But then the boy surprised him by nodding, and moving onto his back, his face white through with both the cold fever that had consumed his body, and the fear he was so acutely experiencing.

Even cut through the ropes at his ankles first and then moved up to his wrists. Isak’s hands curled into fists, clenched not with aggression but with terror, his fingers almost blue, and for a moment Even forgot himself, and brought the hands up to his mouth to breathe warm air onto them in several short breaths.

Isak sobbed again but his breathing had calmed somewhat and he slumped his head to the side, unclear on what Even was going to do next. When Even brought his knife to the wrists, he felt the slim body underneath him tense through with fear, and Isak’s face remained turned to the side in avoidance as he tried not to look at what Even was going to do next.

Even cut the rope, let it fall from his hands, and then leant back on his legs, letting the knife drop to the floor beside them.

“We must get you warm,” he told Isak. “The fire will-”

“I am sorry,” Isak said, for what felt like the hundredth time since he had been brought back to Even. “I should not have run. I should not-”

“Why did you?” Even asked. He knew that Isak needed rest and warmth but his own fears projected the question before he was able to stop himself. “Why did you risk almost certain death? Do you know what could have happened to you out there?”

 _Stay calm_ , he told himself. _This boy is traumatised. He does not need to hear your doom-laden questions._

“Nikolai-” Isak said. “He… I went to visit Eva. It was stupid of me. I just wanted to see her. And he came back and he-”

 _Please do not say it_ , Even silently begged. _Please do not tell me that monster touched you._

“He tried to… take me... and... Eva protected me…. hit him.”

 _Tried_ , he told himself. _He tried to take Isak. He did not succeed._

“No… no choice. We… we had to run.” His voice was becoming more slurred with each word. “Would have… killed… Eva.” And then he reached up and clung to Even’s body and for a moment his voice was more comprehensible. “I am sorry. I wanted… here. I… I wanted... come home.”

He clung to Even and wept, and Even did not allow Isak to see his face as he held the boy in his arms, because he was sure the intensity of his feelings in that moment would have frightened Isak if he’d seen them.

_Home. He called this dark place home._

“It is okay. I am here.” Even told him. “You are home now. You are safe.”

He eased himself away from Isak’s body, reluctant to do so, in order to bring back blankets and pillows, stuffed plump with goose feathers; he eased one under Isak’s head and then put one beside him.

His father had once told him that when the cold fever took hold, the best remedy was the warmth from a human body. With that in mind, he took a deep breath, took his clothes off. First his tunic and then his breeches. He looked to Isak; he did not want to frighten him when he was already so upset, but he merely moaned and rolled over, back to Even. Even gently rolled him back onto his front and began to tug his leggings off. Only when they slid past Isak’s hips, did he whimper, trying to close his legs in protest.

Even hushed him, rubbing a soothing thumb into the hollow of his pale hip.

“I need to get you warm again. Would you let me do that?” Even would have continued regardless of Isak’s answer. This was about Isak’s life, not his modesty. But thankfully, he acquiesced, his head falling back and his limbs growing limp. Even slid what was left of Isak’s leggings down long legs before reaching up and pulling Isak’s tunic over his head. He tried to keep his eyes on Isak’s placid, but beautiful face.

He was trusting him, he would not break it.

Then he laid down beside Isak and pulled the blankets over them both. He wrapped his arm around Isak’s chest and pulled him close, ignoring the brief stirring his own body felt at the naked boy that was now pressed into him.

“You are safe,” he told Isak again, though the boy did not stir. The only sound between them was Isak’s fractured breaths and the crackle of the fire beside them.

Even did not care, though. He would keep saying it until he had finally convinced himself it was true.

_He was safe. Isak was safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter: Fear of death, fear of mutilation, hypothermia, dubious consent for nudity/touching
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Askrland - 'Askr' is the old Norse word for ash tree.


	10. What The Water Gave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak unintentionally offers an ultimatum. Even makes a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! It's a busy time of year with exams and also the new season taking up a lot of our time. To avoid disappointing you guys in the future, we will be doing random updates instead of the regular Wednesday/Saturday posting schedule. We can guarantee that there will at least be one update a week but we will post it when it's written instead of waiting for Wednesday/Saturday. Think of it as the SKAM approach?
> 
> Trigger warnings are in the end note as usual!

**Chapter 9 - What the Water Gave Me**

_ ‘Cause they took your loved ones _

_ But returned them in exchange for you _

_ But would you have it any other way? _

_ Would you have it any other way? _

_ You couldn't have it any other way _

[What The Water Gave Me, Florence + The Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=am6rArVPip8)

 

**Isak**

When Isak came to, he felt like he was on fire.

His clammy but unmarred hands were proof that he wasn’t but he still moaned at the unbearable heat. His eyes were still dry and scratchy from sleep and it took him a few minutes to blink the blurriness away and take in the wooden wall across from him. It was the wall of the homestead, the one he had left only a short while ago.

_ How had he gotten here? _

His body jolted with surprise, his mind reeling, but his weak limbs wouldn’t allow him to move so instead he only shifted, his head falling back onto a warm chest.

A masculine chest that was rising and falling with life.

Isak froze in fear until his senses slowly came back to life and took in his surroundings. The weathered wood wall from the homestead, the familiar smell of burning kindling, and the distinct earthy smell that permeated the room. He wasn’t in some strange man’s bed; he was curled up in blankets and pillows on the floor next to Even.

Even sighed at Isak’s shifting, a solid arm wrapping firmly around Isak’s waist and pulling him closer into the bed of heat that had woken him up. When the phantom of  _ something _ pressed into Isak’s backside, he flinched and realised; they were both very much naked.

Isak’s fear addled mind raced through the worst case scenarios with ease. Had Even taken him while he slept? Had he done something else to Isak to punish him?

Now, he knew deep in his bones that Even would never. But the fear from the ordeal he had been through clung to him like a thin layer of ice. He tried to turn in Even’s grip but his arm was like a vice. Eventually, Isak managed to roll over so they were face to face, Even’s soft hair brushing against Isak’s forehead.

He looked younger like this, with his face free of the indifferent mask he usually wore. Isak tentatively let one of his fingers trace the curl of Even’s eyebrow and jumped when Even flinched at the touch and opened blue eyes to stare straight at him.

Isak pulled his hand away quickly, embarrassed at having been caught trying to fondle Even like a child, but Even said, “It is fine,” just as quickly.

Still, Isak did not dare reach out again.

He suddenly felt more conscious of his nakedness with Even alive and awake across from him. He pulled the blankets around his front shyly and Even noticed.

“You do not need to worry,” Even said plainly, rubbing at Isak’s thigh comfortingly through the thick blanket.

When Isak stared back at him with bleary, confused eyes he continued, “I did not do anything...untoward. You needed to be warm or you would have died.”

The memories filled his head sluggishly like cold water pooling at the base of his head. He remembered being shaken awake by a party of men and Eva screaming. It was all he could hear then and he can still hear her screams now. They had been tied up tightly, and burlap bags were placed over their heads. Isak remembered crying into the darkness as his teeth chattered and the harsh rope dug into his wrists. Eventually he had quieted because of the cold stiffening his limbs but Eva had not. She had screamed profanities at the men who had thrown them over horses. When they had finally arrived back at the village, she had paid for it.

Isak had listened to her being beaten. The screams and the small choked-off grunts were far worse than her vicious screams from earlier. After that she had been returned to Nikolai. Isak had heard the echo of his voice commenting on how he was going to teach Eva a lesson, through the cloth of his bag.

The ride after that from Nikolai’s homestead to Even’s had been torturous. The men had goaded Isak and told him that Even might share him to remind him never to run away again. Isak knew Even would not. He had promised him.

_ I will cut off the hands of any man that touches you. _

When Isak had grown silent at the goading they had taken to more violent words and told Isak of how Even would punish him when he was returned. How his skin would split after being flogged and how Even would cut his hands from his wrists and cripple him so he could never hope of escaping the homestead again.

Isak would have taken it all as boarish goading if it had not been for the threat about Isak’s hands. Even had used it often towards other men and Isak knew he was capable of it. The fear paralysed him until he was on Even’s doorstep again, bag pulled off of his head, and wrapped up in his warm arms.

He had expected Even to at the very least thrash him and at worst, cut off his hands like the men had said.

Instead, Even had been kind. Isak vaguely remembered Even cutting the rope from his raw wrists and putting him in bed like a babe. 

_ He also undressed me like one _ , Isak thought sourly, embarrassed by his bare skin.

Still, he had not lied. The only pain Isak could feel was the cold soreness of his weary limbs and the sting of his wrists. He remained untouched everywhere else.

“I believe you,” he said shyly, unsure of how to proceed.

Even had said he would not be punished but surely he must be angry? Isak had run. He had disobeyed him to the highest degree.

Defying expectation as always, Even’s eyes did not stray below Isak’s neck, despite his vulnerability. Instead he let one of his large hands twist into Isak’s messy curls before pulling them away from Isak’s face.

Isak blushed under the attention, trying not to squirm under Even’s intense gaze.

“Are you in pain?” Even asked. His tone was calm but there was a hint of desperation to it that Isak did not understand. 

Isak had not been raped. His skin was cold but unmarred. By all accounts, Isak was lucky to be alive.

When his expectant eyes did not falter, Isak shrugged non committedly, even that small action making him wince slightly. The men who had grabbed him and Eva had not been kind when hoisting and harnessing them over the horses.

Even noticed, and let his hand trail down to Isak’s shoulder. The touch of skin against skin made Isak’s heart stutter.

“I’m fine.” he said, his voice high with anxiousness that he tried to hide by clearing his throat. Even raised his eyebrows and did not look away.

Isak sighed and admitted, “My shoulders are sore from being thrown over the horse. My wrists are a fair bit raw because of the rope. And my legs…” He did not want to remind Even of his indiscretion but he took a quick breath and said, “My legs hurt from running.”

Even did not look angry at Isak’s reminder, merely concerned.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes.” Isak said quickly, feeling defensive. The humiliation of being stripped while sleeping had not left him, even though he was sure Even had not taken any liberties. And though he had let himself be carried before, the thought of Even carrying him now, when his mind was clear, made him unbearably shy.

Even did not seem to believe anything that came from with mouth because he said, “Well then, let me see.”

When Even got up from the bed, pulling the sheets from his bare body, Isak blushed before closing his eyes. The small glimpse he had caught of a pale chest and strong arms seemed burned to the inside of his eyelids.

He heard Even walk around the bed, and then the sound of cloth being shucked on to a body. He was getting dressed. Isak relaxed at that realisation until one of Even’s hands tapped his exposed back.

“Come on, _Lille_ __S_ ol. _ ” Isak did not know why Even was calling him that, but he turned around at the moniker. Even held one of his own tunics and a pair of Isak’s leggings in hand.

“If you can, dress yourself. And then we will see how you fare with walking.”

Isak took the clothes, pulling them under the blanket protectively. When Even stared at him expectantly, Isak slowly said, “I’m going to dress myself.”

Even nodded, “You are. But I am not taking my eyes off you until I know you are able bodied again.”

He did not seem to be joking and it made Isak’s jaw twitch. So he awkwardly pulled the blankets over himself, protecting his modesty, as he changed into the clothing as efficiently as he could.

When he was covered he hesitantly shucked the blankets off and set his feet on the ground before standing. He immediately wavered and Even’s hand was there, grabbing his waist and holding him up.

“I have you,” he said comfortingly, and Isak leaned into him before he remembered himself.

“I’m fine, see?” He forced himself to stand despite the groaning of his thighs, and he walked around the room in a circuit. His thighs caught on Even’s tunic that was a bit too long for him and fell almost to his knees.

“So you are,” Even said, though he still sounded unconvinced. He walked over to him and Isak felt his heartbeat quicken when he brushed close and then past him.

“Come.” Even called to him, “You need to regain your strength. The best way to do that is to eat.”

Isak followed Even to the large dining table, letting him lead the way and trying to hide how his limbs ached with every step. He thought he was doing a good job until he noticed Even’s eyes staring at him from the corners before looking away quickly when he caught Isak’s eye.

Isak immediately headed for the kitchen to do what was expected, but Even gently stopped him before leading him to a chair with a hand on his waist.

“Sit. I will cook.”

Isak did not think understand why Even was waiting on him hand and foot when he was the one who had run but he acquiesced and sat down. It felt odd, sitting there while Even, his master, prepared food for him.

Still, he obediently sat there, watching Even weave around the kitchen, oddly graceful for a man his size. He gutted some fish and allowed it to cook over the fireplace and the smell made Isak whimper embarrassingly. It felt like days since he had last eaten..

Isak wanted to fall through the ground when Even looked up, obviously having heard his whimper.

He worked more quickly after that, allowing the fire to almost scorch the fish so it would cook quicker. Isak watched him fashion an old crust of bread from the bread box, ripping it in half for the both of them.

When Even placed his food in front of him, Isak was surprised to see that Even had given him two fish, and only one for himself.

“Thank you,” Isak said quietly, feeling oddly flattered by Even’s favouritism.

Even smiled at Isak’s voice and for the first time Isak noticed that his eyes crinkled almost boyishly when he did so.

“You need it more than I do,” he replied, before sitting across from Isak and breaking the bone of his fish to eat.

Isak tried to school his hunger into something more appropriate but he could not stop himself from moaning when he bit into the fish for the first time. He pulled meat from bone quickly, sucking the meat onto his tongue until all that was left was bare.

When he looked up, Even was looking at him looking with an odd look that was also strangely satisfied.

Isak looked down, embarrassed. They ate in silence until Even broke it by saying,“You are not going to see that girl again.” 

He did not even look at Isak as he spoke this; he deemed it so unimportant.

Isak felt his blood heat at Even’s lack of care. She was his dearest friend and she could be dead for all Even cared.

“Her name is Eva.” Isak said quietly, trying to hide his anger.

Even finally looked up at Isak’s words and he repeated again, colder now, “You are not going to see Eva again.”

_ This must be it then. _ The punishment for running was to watch watch Eva hang.

Sitting at death’s doorstep had made Isak brave, but also stupid. He petulantly shoved his bowl to one side, letting it fall to the ground. It shattered into pieces, spilling the mess of bones and meat on the stone floor at his feet. Then he pushed his chair away from the table angrily and stood up, even though his limbs ached with protest.

Even stood up when Isak did and said, “You have ruined your second meal.” He watched Isak like he was a doe about to run.

“I will see her again and I’m going to save her.”

Even stared at Isak curiously before laughing at his words, not cruelly, but as though the very thought was absurd. It hurt more than if Even had just slapped him.

“You will not see her again because I will not allow it. And even if you do, there is nothing you can do. That girl sealed her fate when she hit Nikolai and took what belonged to him.”

“Took what belonged to him?” Isak said carefully, his fingers itching for a fight. “So because she belongs to him she should have stayed and allowed herself to be beaten?”

Even’s brow furrowed as he took in Isak’s glassy eyes and his twitching fists. He took more care when he spoke the second time. “It is the way of the North, Isak. She is a thrall and she would have been aware of Nikolai’s temperament. It was foolish of her to hit him and even more foolish to run.”

Isak felt as though his faith was crumbling with every word; he did not know if he had any left in his exhausted body, but apparently he had a little bit left for Even. His unusual keeper who refused to beat him but instead taught him how to read. Someone who made him feel afraid of so many things but also held him and told him,  _ You are safe.  _

That was the one thing Isak remembered clearly from last night. Even’s warm arms and the reassurances that Isak was safe because Even had him.

That same Even believed that Eva was just a possession, that she was foolish for stepping out of place and disobeying her master to save Isak.

Isak spoke slowly, afraid his voice would crack and tears would spill out. “Should she have been a good thrall then? And let Nikolai take me?”

Even stared at Isak for a moment before he crossed the room in three easy strides, taking Isak’s face into his hands. Isak could not help the tears that filled his eyes when Even pulled his chin up and forced him to look at him.

“No. I am grateful that she stopped Nikolai. You cannot begin to know how relieved I was when you told me he did not touch you. But-”

Isak nudged against his palm questioningly at the sharp pause.

Even let a thumb run down one of Isak’s cheekbones, making his lids grow heavy and letting his eyelashes flutter.

“She chose to do that at the cost of her own life.”

Isak pulled away from Even’s warm hand at that, stepping back until he was standing in the mess of food again.

Even was kind to Isak, yes, but to everyone else he was almost unbearably cruel.

“I was collecting your coins.” Isak said quickly. The confession made blood rush in his ears and made the rest of the words come easier. “It wasn’t her idea to run, it was mine. I was planning to run to save her. And I will again if you let her die.”

Even looked angrier now when he stepped up into Isak’s space, looking down on him. Isak refused to look away even as his eyes watered under Even’s hard expression.

“You will never run again.” Even said quietly. It was the only thing Isak could hear in the homestead besides his own heartbeat. “I swear to the Gods, Isak. Look at what happened to you just this time?!” 

Isak flinched when Even grabbed his wrist, pulling it up so Isak could see the raw red skin. Isak wrenched his arm from Even’s grip defiantly.

“I don’t care,” he said, honestly. And he didn’t. Eva was his friend and he could not sit by and let Even keep him cloistered away and safe while she died because of him.

Even looked so angry, for a moment, Isak was afraid he would lash out. But instead he seemed to calm down. It was frightening but familiar. 

Then Isak realised that the last time he had seen that look on Even’s face was when he had seen Nikolai stripping Isak at the settlement.

Even brought his hand up again, and gently pulled one of Isak’s stray curls so his eyes were exposed to Even’s gaze. After a moment he said, “You told me this place was your home.”

Isak’s breath caught as he heard his own words said back to him. He had prayed Even would forget his brief moment of weakness but he hadn’t. Even was safety and shelter but more than that he was kind. Kinder than any home Isak had been in back at the village.

But Isak did not deserve it. He was a thrall just like Eva. 

What had he done to deserve Even’s kindness while Eva suffered? His heart ached with anger at the Gods for the unfairness of it all. 

Eva was gentle and vibrant and most of all  _ good _ . She was the one who had cared for Isak when his Mother had died, selflessly giving him food and asking for nothing in return.

Isak could not let her die. He  _ would  _ not.

“She is my home too,” Isak said helplessly, feeling more exposed than he had when he was naked in Even’s bed.

Even curled his hand in Isak’s hair, his face impassive, before he pulled back and walked around him. Isak immediately felt cold at his absence.

“Where are you going?” Isak asked, but Even did not answer him. He merely wrapped himself in his wolf skins before wrenching open the door to the homestead, letting it bang open and then shut.

Isak flinched at the noise and allowed himself to sink to the floor, his aching legs finally giving in.

He had seen Even angry before. But not at him. Never at him.

Despite the stinging in his eyes and the quickening of his breath, he could not regret what he had said. He meant every word of it.

He picked up the mess of fish and bread with his hands blankly, cleaning the floor until his finger tips were numb to match his wrists.

When he was done he restarted the fire that Even had left, letting the heat warm his numb body until he dimly felt as though he was alive again.

He must have been staring at the embers for hours when Even finally returned. Isak felt the cold wind from the open doorway hit him first before he saw Even.

He did not look angry anymore, but tense and blank. This was not the face of Even; this was the face of the Berserker.

Isak sat up quickly, standing across from him hesitantly. He did not know if Even would still be angry with him after their fight. However, Even did not acknowledge him at all. That somehow bothered Isak more.

“What did you do?” Isak asked after Even had silently taken off his boots. He watched Even rise to his full height, refusing to look him in the eye. Having Even angry at him made him feel dismal, but Even treating him with indifference made him feel small and worthless.

“I challenged Nikolai for Eva,” Even told him, before throwing off his wolfskins and walking past Isak. Isak did not recognise the word  _ challenge _ but his heart began to beat faster, wondering if this meant something good or ill for Eva.

Isak followed him.  _ Like a dog, _ he thought, but he could not stop himself.  He needed to know.

“Challenge?” Isak asked slowly, “I do not know this word?”

Even sighed, the anger leaking out of his shoulders like it always did when Isak looked to him for guidance. “A challenge is a battle with a winner where the winner receives a prize. If Nikolai loses, he will have to give me Eva.”

_ A battle. _

Even was going to battle Nikolai for Eva. He had no reason to do such a thing other than Isak’s request.

Isak felt bashful at the realisation.

“I want to see this challenge.” Isak said firmly. He knew Even was strong and appeared to be the most favoured of the warriors in the village, even by Nikolai’s own father. But he also knew that Nikolai was a monster and would not be averse to fighting with venom and underhand deceict.

“You will not.” Even said bluntly, like his word was law. “It is far too violent for you.”

Isak wanted to laugh but thought better of it. Isak had seen more violence in this village than he had his entire life in Jutland. Bearing witness to violence was all he seemed to do.

“I will,” Isak said again, unwavering under Even’s glowering expression.

Even caught his eye, his eyes wide in challenge, but Isak did not falter. He knew Even would not stop him. Nonetheless he wondered if Even picked up on his eyes shining a little brighter and with more uncertainty than the image he was trying to sell. He swallowed sharply and widened his eyes, placing the challenge right back at Even’s feet.

His bluff was proven to be fruitful when Even did not offer more protest, and instead walked past Isak, to his room.

With Even gone, Isak relaxed and allowed his words to sink in.

He would see Eva again and she would live. Of that he was certain. He  _ had _ to be certain. The thought of Even losing this battle was unthinkable. Isak felt an overwhelming sense of relief but it was preceded by a fear that clogged his lungs and made his heart pound. 

If Even lost, there was everything to lose. Even would be at risk of death, Eva would remain Nikolai’s thrall, and Isak…

Isak realised in that moment what the stake was from Even’s side of the challenge. Nikolai was not going into this battle with no incentive.

If Even was to win Eva in victory, then Nikolai must have agreed to the same terms. Isak would go to him instead.

A chill ran through Isak and he shook his head to clear the ugly thought from his head. Even would win. He had to. For Isak knew he would not last the winter if he ended up in Nikolai’s captivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Brief mention of possible rape and past attempted rape, fear of rape, and descriptions of past or feared violence.
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Lille Sol - Little Sun in Norwegian.


	11. Nothing Satisfies Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even and Nikolai fight for their thralls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not too much to write in the notes today other than the fact that this was one of our favourite chapters to write, and we sincerely hope you enjoy reading it as much as we've enjoyed developing it for you! Please let us know your thoughts and feelings; your words really do encourage us to write better and faster for you guys!
> 
> Trigger warnings (containing spoilers) and terms can be found in the end notes.

**Chapter 10 - Nothing Satisifies Me**

_No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold_

_Nothing satisfies me but your soul_

[O Death, Jen Titus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWabGQBnzKo)

 

**Isak**

It was not always dark in Hålogaland, even in the midst of the unrelenting winter. For a few short hours every day, the sun edged its way tentatively into the sky and cast glorious light across the vista of mountainous snowy land. The light seemed to possess magical qualities; it cleansed the body and temporarily freed the mind, casting a strange but beguiling blue light over all it touched.

Isak had not realised this during his first few weeks in the North. The homestead offered very little in the way of natural light, and Isak had been in a sort of daze at the beginning, simply surviving from one day to the next. Gradually, though, he began to see it: those few, vital hours of sunlight in which he would bask, at least when Even was not at home and he was able to venture outside for a short moment.

Today, though, the sunlight brought fear rather than relief. For the _challenge_ between Even and Nikolai had been set for this brief period of respite, when the sun was at its highest in the sky.

From within Even’s bedroom he could hear the picking up and putting down of weaponry, the occasional clearing of his throat or the unmistakable _swoosh_ of a sword as it cut through the air. Isak waited at the kitchen table, staring straight ahead, his hands clenched together in front of him as he tried to settle his nerves. His wrists were red raw and ugly to look at; he pulled his sleeves down further with trembling hands.

 _Calm yourself_ , Even would tell him, if he came out of his room now and saw him like this.

 _Did Even fear anything?_ Isak wondered. Part of him knew the answer to the question, for he had seen the fear in Even’s eyes when Isak had been returned to him the day before last; he understood now that Even’s feelings for him were deeper than Isak had previously cared to admit.

But Isak could scarcely afford to distract himself by these growing feelings between them when there was a very real possibility that Even would be dead within the hour.

The thought of Even falling, sacrificing himself for a fight that was barely his, but instead had been instigated by Isak’s demands, filled Isak with dread as cold as the stone of the floor beneath his feet. If Even was run through by Nikolai’s sword, if he fell to the ground bleeding out as Nikolai stood over him and crowed in victory, it would be Isak’s fault. All of it.

And Isak’s punishment would be learning to face a life without him.

It was not just the thought of going to Nikolai that afeared Isak. Readjusting to a life without the man who had undoubtedly protected him these weeks past, who was a reassuring, kind presence in a world that was the very opposite… it seemed unthinkable. Isak knew he would weep for Even if he passed through the doors of Valhalla.

Isak was so lost in his thoughts that when he felt a hand at his hunched shoulders, rubbing down into the small of his back, he shot forward into the table with a yelp so loud it filled the room. And then Even chuckled and said, “Calm yourself.”

 “I _am_ calm,” Isak said facetiously. “I am… far, far calmer than you.”

“Is that so?” Even asked. He had a small smile on his lips, and Isak wondered how he found it in himself to be playful at a time such as this. “You are not coiled as tightly as a serpent?”

“No,” Isak said with wide eyes. “I am _not_ a serpent.”

Even looked at him, his chuckle levelling out. A small smile remained on his lips as he looked upon Isak’s face.

“I know.”

The gaze lasted a little longer than was necessary and Isak felt himself flush under the intensity of Even’s unwavering stare. Then he turned away, back to the table, and took a quick breath. “I _am_ frightened,” he confessed suddenly. “For you, and for Eva.”

“You have no need to be,” Even told him. “Nikolai is a decent warrior but I am better. I would not have made this challenge if there was any possibility of losing you.”

“I wish I had your surety.”

“You _do_ have it,” Even told him. He put his hands underneath the seat of Isak’s stool and in a moment lifted it up and turned it so their bodies were facing. Isak felt himself flush further at the casual display of Even’s strength. He gasped slightly when Even took his hands and brought them up to his mouth before kissing them. “I promise you, Isak, I will win this for you.”

Isak gave a quick nod, not trusting himself to speak.

They wrapped up warm in their furs before preparing to leave the homestead. When Isak saw Even shrugging on his wolfskins he quickly asked, before he could stop himself, “Why do you wear these, when the other men wear bearskins?”

Even’s mouth quirked. “They used to call me Fenrir. A savage wolf boy. So I donned the wolfskins and claimed the joke as my own. And then they decided to call me Berserker instead.”

 _Fenrir, the wolf who killed Odin_ , Isak remembered. As children, they were told tales of this monstrous creature who consumed the moon and the sun and left the world in darkness and despair. They were warned that if they were unruly, they would be bound by the Gods, just as Fenrir had been bound in order to restrict his evil-doing.

Isak could not reconcile the image of the snarling, savage wolf with the man in front of him. And the thought terrified him.

_He murdered his parents and yet he is the kindest man I have ever met. This world is backwards. Nothing makes sense._

Outside, their boots sunk into snow and Isak paused for a moment as Even closed the door behind them. Then he turned to Even, went up on tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his cheek.

“For good fortune,” he said.

Even smiled and touched his cheek. “Your face is good fortune enough, _Lille Sol_.”

 

* * *

 

The village centre was more bustling and lively than market day. Word of the battle had clearly spread and Isak was shocked to see so many excited faces, and the low din of gossiping voices as they discussed the odds and potential outcomes.

More than a few looked at Isak with barely concealed scorn, and he averted his eyes, moving closer to Even as they walked through to the main clearing outside the Hof that lay a little way from the tavern. Here, villagers had started to assemble in a semi circle.

“You will need to wait with the other thralls,” Even told him. In contrast to his countenance at the homestead he seemed tenser now, his voice slightly strained and his eyes alert as they flitted from villager to villager. Presumably he was looking for Nikolai, but neither of them had seen the other warrior yet. “Whatever happens, you do not talk to a free man, you do not draw attention to yourself, you follow my command. Nikolai will be looking for a reason to see you punished, regardless of who wins.”

 _You said that_ you _would win_ , Isak thought. But he gave a small nod to show he understood.

Even took him by the arm and led him to the small group of thralls; among them he saw Emma and Ingrid but they did not speak to him; they waited with their heads lowered, as did the other slaves around them.

As Isak took his place, he glanced up to see Even watching with a wary expression on his handsome face as Nikolai and Eva approached them. Isak swallowed bile in his mouth when he saw Eva’s fresh bruises, littering all parts of her exposed skin, and her dull-eyed stare into the middle distance.

 _What did he do to you_ , Isak wanted to ask. He felt his chest tighten in anger and he reached out for her, clutching her smaller hand in his own. The action did not go unnoticed by Nikolai, who leered at him.

“I look forward to having both of you in my bed,” he told them. “Two whores to one man, is there any greater pleasure?”

“Even defeating you in this challenge would be _far_ more pleasurable,” Isak said sharply. Eva gripped at his hand more tightly as the words poured out of his mouth, tempered by anger at the appalling things Eva must have endured since their escape attempt.  

And then he looked across at the tall figure beside him and realised Even was glaring at him furiously.

Isak bit into his lip when he noticed his master’s expression. He had forgotten himself again. _Why are you always running your stupid mouth off,_ he scolded himself.

But Nikolai merely laughed at the words. “Perhaps you have more spirit than I thought. It will be fun to fuck it out of you when you are back in my homestead, tied down and helpless.”

He moved away, and Isak looked at Even with wide, apologetic eyes. He could not even begin to guess what the older man was thinking but he did not verbally reprimand Isak for speaking out of turn: instead he followed Nikolai into the centre of the ring of people, casting one final look back at Isak before shedding his wolfskins, throwing it to one side, and taking his place as Nikolai mimicked his actions.

They did not start immediately: Isak realised after a time that they were waiting, and he wondered who or what for. The crowd were paused in expectancy, their murmurs low; at the front were the warriors of the village, all taller and broader and more physically impressive than the other villagers. Isak saw Christoffer and William speaking heatedly to one another as they surveyed the scene with concern.

“William thinks he is going to lose his brother,” Eva said quietly, when she saw where Isak was staring. “Even is said to be the strongest one of these monsters.”

“Monsters?!” said a voice behind them. “Who is a monster?”

They whipped their heads round at the same time to see a North man standing there. Or perhaps a North _boy_ was a more accurate description: he seemed to be closer in age to Isak and Eva than to those they had met so far. Nonetheless, his long hair was braided and he carried a small sword at his side like the other warriors of the village. He had an open, guileless expression and a wide, easy smile. Isak and Eva gaped in fear when they saw him, and Eva’s mouth slammed shut.

“Sorry!” said the fair haired boy. “I did not mean to interrupt. But it is fine. I will not tell anyone.”

Isak glanced across at Eva, who was eyeing the fair haired boy warily.

“My name is Magnus,” the unlikely warrior said, introducing himself. “Magnus the Worst, if you wish to know my title. Are you here to watch the fight too?”

“You should not be talking to us,” Eva said sharply, her eyes darting over to the North men. “We are thralls.”

Magnus scrunched his face up like a petulant child. “Yes, but…” he gestured over to where Eva had glanced. “You do not mock me like they do.”

Isak raised his eyebrows before he could stop himself. “You fear them? But you are a warrior?”

“More like _warrior-in-training_ ,” Magnus said, his smile not leaving his mouth. “They do not let me go on raids yet, but one day I will be the fiercest of all the North men. I will be even more famed than Even the Berserker or his father, the Godslayer.”

“But for now you are just _the worst_?” Eva muttered beside Isak. Instead of looking offended, Magnus’s smile only widened.

“True. But I will earn a worthier title once I have proven myself!”

Isak wondered how a North man could be an outcast amongst his own but he quickly learned _how_ when Magnus would not cease talking. His cheerful voice soon began to grate Isak’s short nerves. Before Isak could do something he might regret, such as telling Magnus to stop yelling in his ear like an exuberant child, the general muttering and noise from the crowd, quieted. The sharp words on Isak’s lips died, soon forgotten. He looked around to see the source of the fear that now seemed to emanate from the assembled villagers and immediately he saw Erik striding to the middle of the circle.

 _Perhaps he will put a stop to this_ , Isak hoped. Part of him would have been comforted at the thought, had it not been for his fears of what it would mean for Eva.

Erik spoke to the two competitors for a brief period of time, nodding occasionally, and Isak strained his ears in an attempt to listen to what they were saying. Magnus glanced at him, seeing the concentration on his face, and whispered, “He is likely going over the rules of the challenge.”

“And what would those be?” Isak asked, forgetting to be wary of Magnus in his need to find out more information. But as Magnus opened his mouth to answer, Erik’s booming voice sounded across the village.

“Good women and proud men of our village; you have come here today to see a fight, and a fight you shall see. This is _not_ a battle to the death, unless one of these headstrong fools refuses to yield. The winner may stake his claim on five hundred pieces of gold belonging to the loser, or something equivalent of that worth.”

Isak saw Nikolai’s eyes fall on him, a cruel smile on his lips, and he shuddered. Eva’s hand tightened around his.

“Even will win this,” Isak whispered to her. “He will win this for both of us.”

“He is not doing this for _me_ ,” Eva told him.

Isak felt his heartbeat quicken at her words but he did not have time to ponder what it meant.

The challenge was beginning.

They watched as Erik joined the rest of the North men. Even and Nikolai took a few steps away from one another, drawing their swords and circling, and the audience seemed to hold its breath, lost in the spectacle of the two men before them: powerful and coiled as they surveyed each other in repose before the fight.

And then they moved towards one another.

Their swords swept through the air; steel sounded upon steel and Nikolai let out a grunt with the sheer force of Even’s sword against his. But he did not buckle. He took a defensive position and pushed back, Even’s sword deflecting from his.

Isak had seen only a handful of sword fights in his life and none from highly skilled sword fighters such as these. He found himself entranced by Even’s ease of movement. Unencumbered by the wolfskins, his body was undeniably impressive, with strong arms, broad shoulders and a lean torso where Isak could see defined muscles pressed against the thin woven tunic he was wearing.

His movements were swift and precise while Nikolai, clearly a decent fighter in any other circumstances, came across as unsophisticated in comparison. Nonetheless, the battle seemed slow and Isak was unsure as to why. After several long minutes of fighting, neither of them had yet to make any visible impact.

Beside Isak, Magnus let out a small _tsk_ and Isak looked at him with curiosity. “Nikolai is playing the coward’s role. He is only using defensive techniques,” Magnus explained. Sure enough, now that he had pointed it out, Isak saw it was an accurate description. Each time Even thrust forward, aiming to push his way past the sword, Nikolai simply pushed back without ever losing his defensive stance.

“If Even keeps on attempting to attack, he will tire himself out.”

“Is this even allowed?” Eva asked frustratedly. Around them, Isak could hear the sounds of the crowd growing restless; there were even some scattered heckles here and there. The North men watched in stony silence, Erik’s mouth pulled into a grim line.

“It is allowed but it is frowned upon by warriors,” Magnus said. “Nikolai is as good as admitting he does not match Even’s ability.”

Isak jolted slightly when Even crashed forward with an uncharacteristically clumsy underarm swing; Nikolai deflected it easily and then grinned with malice.

“I wonder where I’ll first mark the boy’s skin,” Even’s opponent said out loud, glancing over to Isak as Even roared in anger and tried to swing for him again. “Perhaps between his warm thighs? Or on that beautiful face of his?”

Even swung forward again, his whole body twisting in consternation, and Isak realised Nikolai’s plan was working: they had been watching for some time now and Even was clearly growing weaker with each swing while Nikolai’s demeanour seemed relatively unaffected. Eva let out a yelp beside him and dropped his hand and he realised he had been squeezing it too tightly.

“Sorry,” he apologised under his breath.

“He will win this,” Eva told him. “He is the better swordsman.”

But her confidence did not match what they were both seeing before their eyes. After several more long minutes of frustration, Nikolai surprised them all by slashing across Even’s arm; Isak saw the material of his tunic slice open, red blood blooming underneath, and Even gritting his teeth in pain before lunging again as Nikolai quickly came back into a defensive stance.

The sudden appearance of blood peaked the audience’s attention; now they began to cheer and shout more enthusiastically, Nikolai’s cowardice already forgotten. Isak had the exact opposite reaction, his heart racing as the excitement from the crowd grew louder. Nikolai revelled in the encouragement.

“They wish for me to win because I will share my new whore with every man who wants him,” he said, and this was met with a roar of approval from a few of the North men.

“Animals,” Eva said, and Magnus clapped Isak on the shoulder.

“I hope Even wins,” he said with cheerful honesty. “The men talk about you in training sometimes when Even is out of earshot. They think you are as beautiful as Noora, the thrall that William took as a wife.”

“And you?” Eva asked him suspiciously.

“Me? I think William’s new thrall is the most beautiful of all. But I do not know her name.”

Eva looked incensed for a moment but Isak could not find it in himself to get offended on Vilde’s behalf, not when she appeared to be well cared for and safe while his and Eva’s future was in such jeopardy.

The fight drew his attention back when Even let out a strange noise of anger and managed to work his sword inward in order to circle around the hilt of Nikolai’s. Isak’s heart lifted for a moment and then almost leapt out of his chest when Even let out another grunt and thrust forward again, his sword slicing into the meat of Nikolai’s hand. The crowd came alive with loud roaring and stamping of feet, and Nikolai cried out in pain before his weapon dropped to the ground.

Even kicked it over to the crowd and Nikolai made a noise of anguish before attempting to skirt under Even’s large frame in order to grab the weapon.

The next thing Isak was aware of, Even had tossed his own sword to one side and went down on his knees to straddle Nikolai. His large hands balled into fists as he began to pummel Nikolai’s head into the frostbitten grass. Around them the crowd roared for blood and Eva took Isak’s hand again, squeezing.

 _We are going to be safe. Even is going to be safe_ , Isak realised.

Even brought his hands to Nikolai’s neck and began to squeeze, muttering to the man underneath him as he did so. His voice was low and foreboding and nobody but Nikolai could hear him.

Eventually Nikolai choked out, “I yield,” his hand coming up to signal he was done. Even pulled away in a moment, his self control impressive, before he stood up on shaky legs. He did not stop to help Nikolai up but wandered away, barely responsive to the enthusiastic cheering from the crowd.

“You are free, Eva,” Isak told her. She looked unmoved by the outcome of the challenge.

“I am under the ownership of a different monster. That is not _free_ , Isak,” she told him.

He was about to explain what he had meant - simply that Even would not beat or rape her as Nikolai had done - when he felt something shift in the crowd’s excitement from the outcome of the fight. A silence descended upon them abruptly and Isak looked back to see Nikolai back on his feet with Even’s sword in his hand, bringing it inwards to his opponent's back.

Isak felt himself freeze in terror, unable to make a sound. No. _No_. Not like this. Not like this.

But Even was faster. Aware of how the crowd had suddenly turned, he dropped to the floor and rolled to avoid the inevitable, fatal blow. Isak looked across to see Christoffer kicking Nikolai’s discarded sword over to him; Even seized it and rolled onto his back and when Nikolai came back for a second attempt, Even deflected it from his much lower position. He kicked Nikolai’s legs out from underneath him and the brute fell to the floor with a loud grunt of pain.

And then the boos started, as Even stood up, but Isak realised they were not for the one they called Berserker but for Nikolai. “Apparently they have some morals,” Eva muttered darkly.

Erik stormed forward, his own sword drawn. He extended it out to Nikolai who assessed the situation, his face covered with blood which dripped down to his chest and onto the ground, and he let out a sound of disgust before hoisting himself up from the floor and walking away, his gait unsteady as he swayed from side to side. He pushed his way through the crowd until he was out of sight, not even stopping to cast one final glance at the thrall he had just lost.

“I claim this thrall!” Even told the crowd, who cheered with approval. He looked to Erik who nodded in agreement and Even let out a rare, wide smile that lit up his face, before he seemed to remember himself, and then his expression became more guarded.

Isak watched with warmth pooling in his stomach as Even shrugged his wolfskins back on before striding over to them. He looked to Eva with a small nod of his head.

“I hope this arrangement pleases you?” he asked her. Beside them, Magnus gaped at Even with a fawning expression that made Isak roll his eyes. Even looked at him for a moment.

“Magnus.”

“Gr-great fight, Jarl Even.”

“I’ve had better,” Even said nonchalantly, but the slight crinkling by his eyes betrayed his pleasure at winning.

“Your arm,” Isak said, looking at it bleeding out from underneath his tunic. “We should… we need to get home and bind it.”

Even nodded. “Fine. But Eva, I asked you a question? Does this arrangement please you?”

Isak’s heart sank downwards as Eva stared at Even for some time before answering with a small, non committal shrug. “It pleases me as much as anything can please me presently.”

The silence that followed fell like a dead weight, and Isak filled it uneasily with another reminder that they needed to get home. Finally Even and Eva drew their cold gazes away from one another and nodded in agreement.

“I hope to see you both soon,” Magnus told Isak and Eva as they followed Even away through the crowd. “It was nice to talk to you!”

“Is he allowed to speak to us like that?” Isak asked Even quietly. Even frowned disapprovingly.

“He is a free man, he can speak to you however he chooses. With that said, he is widely considered an idiot. The only reason he is not dead yet is because his father is one of Erik’s most trusted advisors. You would do well not to encourage his idle chatter, even if he is amusing.”

Isak found this a little unfair; Magnus appeared to be kinder and more thoughtful than the other North men. But he had to admit, he did come across as an idiot.

So, he did not dispute Even’s words. The atmosphere was already tense and he needed to ensure that neither Eva or Even were too uncomfortable in the others’ presence once they arrived back at the homestead.

They walked in silence. Isak glanced at Eva occasionally and found her expression to be largely apathetic, and he looked to Even occasionally but he could not read his face at all. So he wrapped his arms around himself and tried to keep up with both of them.

By the time they got back to Even’s estate, they were tired and in need of sustenance. Isak resolved to cook a decent meal tonight, hopeful it would ease the ill feelings between them. He was already preparing himself to get to work as soon as he was back inside, but when they reached the door to the homsestead, Even stopped for a moment and looked at Eva.

“Can you go in please?” he said to her. “I need to speak to Isak alone.”

She looked between the two of them, her eyes narrowing in distrust, though they were so swollen from bruises that it was barely noticeable. Isak looked at her with a small nod and she tightened her expression before opening the door and disappearing inside, letting it slam beside her.

“Even?” Isak asked. Even looked at him with a challenging expression on his face.

“You disobeyed my instructions,” he told Isak. “I did not wish to reprimand you like a child in front of Eva but you need to understand how unacceptable it was.”

Isak’s mind raced, trying to remember what he had done, and then the memory alighted in his mind: he had spoken to Nikolai, and not just that. He had spoken _rudely_ , when Even had specifically told him to remain silent.

He dipped his head down. “I-”

“If Nikolai had wanted to, he could have had you flogged for that. Do you _still_ not understand the rules of this land, Isak? I cannot protect you if you willfully refuse to listen to me.”

“The way he spoke to Eva and I, though... I was simpl-”

“His words are insignificant,” Even said, cutting him off angrily. “Survival is the _only_ thing that is important here!”

“No, it is not,” Isak said, his own voice rising in protest. “If we only live to survive, that is no life at all.”

“Not in this world, Isak.”

Isak felt as though he was aflame with anger and indignation at Even’s words. If he only cared about being alive, and cared nothing for the Gods, or the harsh beauty of the nature that surrounded them, or the few people in this village that were good and kind and worthy, then what _did_ he care for?

“I am sorry for speaking to Nikolai in this way,” Isak told him. “But I am _not_ sorry for wanting better for myself and Eva. For reacting when someone speaks to us as though we are not… not even human. Like we are animals, insects. Insignificant.”

“I do not believe you are sorry at all,” Even told him. “And I am telling you now, Isak, the next time you step out of line, I _will_ be forced to take action.”

Isak looked up at him, trying not to feel too intimidated. _Even will never hurt you_ , he told himself. He wavered slightly, though, when Even stepped closer to him, his blue eyes staring down in challenge.

“Is that clear?”

“No,” Isak said childishly. “It is not.”

He waited to see if Even would strike him; he shuddered with something like fear when he saw Even raise his hand, but he simply gripped at his jaw and tilted Isak’s head higher.

“No?”

A foolish yet powerful urge took hold of him and he snaked his tongue out to lick his lips. He felt his body trembling and he willed with all his might for Even to kiss him. His mouth fell open and Even’s impenetrable eyes studied every inch of his face. And then he moved his hand away and Isak dropped his gaze, embarrassed with himself for thinking Even would ever want to do that with him. He'd had the chance to for weeks and had never once touched Isak beyond the perfunctory touches of a kind master. His lack of interest was clear.

The thought was soon struck away when Even grabbed him by the hips, hoisted him up and pressed him into the solid oaken panel of the door. Isak yelped quietly, his legs instinctively wrapping themselves around Even’s waist, his arms at his shoulders.

And then Even leant forward and pressed his full lips against Isak’s mouth, still parted from the sound he had just emitted.

It was Isak’s first kiss and he understood in that moment he would never want another man’s lips against his lips again. When Even pushed his tongue into his mouth, he understood he would never want another man’s tongue inside of him again. He whimpered in pleasure, pressing his lips together chastely, concerned that Even would find him too willing, but Even pinned Isak against the door with his hips pressing into him and brought his hands up to Isak’s face, pulling his cheeks until he parted widely again.

And then they began to kiss with a force Isak had never thought possible, his hardness pressing in between Isak’s legs as his strong thighs supported him against the door. Isak moaned and tightened his legs, thrusting into the sizeable bulge pressing into his own hardness.

“By the Gods,” Isak gasped when Even finally pulled away to allow him to breathe in air. “I-”

And then they heard a clattering from within, followed by an even greater clattering. Eva appeared to be acquainting herself with the cooking utensils. Isak rolled his eyes upwards, his chest panting in need and in excitement at what had just happened. _Did it really need to end here?_

Reluctantly, Even eased him back down to the ground, and they stood for a while simply staring at one another before another tremendous clatter reached their ears.

Even moved Isak to one side and opened the door, disappearing within, and Isak pressed his fingers to his lips for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened. He smiled slightly, looking up at the sun sinking back into the mountains, and then he too returned back to the warmth of the homestead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter: Fear of death, reference to rape, blood, fighting, general violence.
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Fenrir - A mythological creature often spoken about in Old Norse tales. Fenrir was the son of Loki, a savage wolf who caused destruction wherever he went. As such, the gods bound him to prevent any further mayhem but he broke free of these chains and swallowed all in his path as he prowled the seven worlds. He has said to have killed Odi, the most revered of the Norse Gods.


	12. No Light, No Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even and Isak have to adjust to having Eva in the homestead. Even learns something new about Isak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments on the last chapter! We knew you guys would be as excited about Isak and Even's first kiss as we were. Things will get more heated this chapter with Eva in the household (like a lot of you suspected). Just a reminder that updates can be on any day of the week, we won't be sticking to the usual Saturday/Wednesday schedule. However, we will be posting a minimum of one chapter a week.
> 
> You can track our writing progress via tweets by following us @honkstruck and @EllonEarth on Twitter.
> 
> Trigger warnings are in the end note as usual.

**Chapter 11 - No Light, No Light**

_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes_

_I never knew daylight could be so violent_

_A revelation in the light of day,_

_You can't choose what stays and what fades away_

[No Light, No Light, Florence + The Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGH-4jQZRcc)

**Even**

Even woke to the warmth of a body against his. It was such an unfamiliar feeling he almost reached for the phantom sheath of his broadaxe, until his nose brushed against the soft down of Isak’s hair.

He couldn’t stop himself from burying his head in his curls and breathing in, before pulling his head away to look down at Isak.

He had not been here when Even had fallen asleep which meant he had snuck in afterwards. The thought was endearing, the picture he painted even more so. He was curled into a ball almost, his legs hiked up until his knees touched his bare stomach. His back was similarly bare and when Even trailed his fingers down the ridges of Isak’s spine, he jolted awake.

“Good morning,” Even said throatily when Isak turned and stared at him with bleary eyes.

Isak yawned before saying, “Good morning.” The only sound in the room for a short while was the soft rise and fall of Isak’s breath and it was the most beautiful sound Even had ever heard.

“I had a nightmare,” Isak continued quietly. Even’s head perked up at that, looking down at Isak carefully. Now that he looked closer he could see rings of red around Isak’s green eyes, and the sheen of dried tears on his cheek.

Even remembered when he had first brought Isak here, and how he had cried all night, alone in his room, refusing comfort. Now, he came to Even. The transition felt startling though it had taken many weeks.

He shifted Isak, bringing his arms around him and tucking his head under the ridge of his chin. Isak burrowed into his chest, his head resting against Even’s heart. He had it, all of it.

“What was it about, Lille Sol?”

Isak sighed against his chest. Even could feel that he was still coiled with anxiety, much like he had been before the fight, so he combed his hand through Isak’s curls rhythmically until he relaxed and spoke again.

“The fight with Nikolai. I imagined that he had bested you and you had died.” Isak cleared his throat to hide his tears. “And then Eva and I were sent to live with him.”

Even had experienced a nightmare about the very same scenario the night before the fight. It was what had emboldened him and made him sure of winning. Isak being broken by Nikolai’s hands was an impossibility that he had refused to consider.

“I would have never let that happen,” Even told him with surety, still weaving his long fingers through Isak’s hair.

Isak sat up sharply at that and said, “You can’t promise not to die. No one can.”

Isak had not been scared of Nikolai taking him, he had been scared of Even dying. Even felt his heart pound at the unexpected revelation and it made him want to kiss his boy.

But Isak was already out of bed, sliding his tunic back over his head and walking towards the door.

Even hastily slid his own tunic over his head and followed Isak into the hallway. Isak yelped when Even wrapped his arms around Isak’s waist, pulling him back into Even’s chest. When Even pressed a kiss to Isak’s nape then his jaw, he felt Isak melt against him, his body becoming limp.

“For you, I promise not to die,” he said with intensity, his words true.

Isak leaned against his chest for a moment before he said, “ _Do_ you promise?”

Before Even could answer, to state it again and again until Isak believed it, they were interrupted by an unfamiliarly high voice.

“Good morning.”

Eva stood before them in the dress she had worn the night before. They were little more than rags and she looked all the more gaunt for it. Wisps of auburn hair had begun to peek through around the crown her head, and limpid green eyes stared out from her pretty, thinned out face.

They sent a clear message. _I do not trust you._

Even did not trust her either. The only thing that kept him from saying so was the warmth of Isak’s soft body settled against his chest.

That was soon taken away from him when Isak jumped away from him guiltily, as though they had been caught doing something sordid.

It irritated Even, that Isak was so deferential around Eva. The only person Isak needed to be deferring to was him. _Come back and lie in my arms_ , he thought, _for she is nothing._ But she obviously was _something_ to Isak, and Even would have to make do. In that moment, Even regretted bringing this wild girl into the home that he had begun to make with Isak.

After an awkward pause Eva stiffly said, “First meal is served, Jarl Even,” before turning on her heel and walking back towards the kitchen.

“Eva, that is my job.” Isak chastised playfully, trailing after her while Even followed. Instead of meeting Isak’s teasing with her own, Eva bowed her head and said, “I apologise,” before retreating to the corner of the room where she stood like a statue. It was unbearably strange. This was the girl that Isak called friend?

Isak seemed to find her behaviour off-putting as well because he approached her, tugged on her arm gently and said, “What are you doing?”

“Things will go a lot easier if you just disregard everything you learned in Nikolai’s household,” Even said bluntly. She flinched at his deep voice, and the first thing he had said to her since her arrival, but he could not find it in him to care.

He knew he was not a cruel master so he did not have any patience left in him to humour her skittish behaviour. He had already had to do this once with Isak.

With his Lille Sol he had coaxed and misstepped but it had taken days upon days for Isak to trust him even the smallest amount. And even longer than that for Isak to open his sweet mouth to let Even take, and take, before pressing his tongue into him like a starving man. The memory of Isak’s soft thighs wrapped around his waist and his weak arms grasping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck made Even grow hard in his breeches. Isak, who was still so innocent, despite his beauty, did not notice. But Eva did and she shrunk into the wall, her eyes the size of dinner plates.

By the Gods. Did he really need to make such a mess of everything?

“Sit and eat with us. I do not make Isak eat separate from me. It is unnecessary considering we are the only two members of the household,” Even fumbled before adding, “Well, three now.”

Eva bowed again awkwardly, before shuffling over to the table and sitting down. Isak sat down next to her, whispering to her hurriedly. He sounded worried but Eva did not answer him, her eyes too busy anxiously looking at Even before looking down at her lap.

Even headed into the kitchen to fetch the food. Let Isak deal with the girl. Carrying out some food seemed hardly a chore compared to dealing with Eva.

When he returned, Eva tried to sit up abruptly but Isak pulled her back into her chair.

“It’s fine. Carrying three bowls isn’t going to kill Even.”

Eva looked like she wanted to snap at Isak for his light tongue but she thankfully stayed quiet, pursing her lips and nodding.

Even set the bowls in front of them and plied them with crusts of bread and fish. Isak started eating before Even had even finished filling his own plate and Eva looked appalled at his behaviour. Even could not help but be unbearably charmed by Isak’s loud chewing. Long gone was the boy who blushed at spilling a drop of broth.

Her judgemental staring ceased once she got food of her own in front of her. She ate quickly; she was undoubtedly starving, but she was unbearably neat like Isak was when he had first come to live with Even.

The food was good, far better than anything Isak or Even had ever made, but Even did not comment on it. Isak was not particularly skilled at most chores but he took small pride in the little things he could do, like grill fish and get the stone floor to almost shine.

As foolish as it was, he did not want to make Isak feel as though his efforts were unappreciated.

When Even was finished he cleared his throat uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed with this girl who looked more like an assortment of skin and bones rather than an actual girl.

“Your duties will be the same as Isak. So cooking meals and cleaning the homestead. You have done first meal so Isak will take care of second meal. Is that agreeable?”

Eva stared at him with wide eyes as if waiting for more. When he said nothing she said, “...And those are all of my duties?”

“Yes,” Isak interjected helpfully, but it startled Eva. Nikolai most likely did not let her speak out of turn, Even noted.

“It is agreeable,” Eva said quickly, as if Even was going to add a long list of chores if she did not acquiesce immediately

“Good,” Even said as he pulled his chair out. Eva watched him carefully with guarded eyes that made him almost nervous. He did not know why until he realised; the girl had not blinked once.

He shucked on his wolfskins and pulled up his boots to leave. He was stopped by a warm hand on his wrist.

It could only be Isak, who stared up at him with his delicate lips curled into a smile. Even was all too aware of Eva’s eyes boring into them from across the room.

“Ignore her.” Isak whispered, like they were two children with a secret. “She’s just mad at me.” He rolled his eyes but did not elaborate.

Isak grew somber when he said, “Be safe today.”

Even knew what he really meant: Be cautious of Nikolai. He would be out for blood after Even had publicly humiliated him. They both knew he was not above using underhanded means to get his own way or scrape back some of the standing in the village that he had so spectacularly lost the previous day.

He nodded, letting his hands fall to Isak’s waist to rub at the small of his back comfortingly.

“I will.”

Then, Isak surprised him and tilted his head up to kiss Even chastely. It took him a moment to react and Isak had already started to retreat, embarrassed.

Even clutched Isak to him desperately, pressing his tongue against the seam of Isak’s lip and moaning into his sweet mouth when he acquiesced and let Even in. He could hear Eva loudly cleaning up the dishes left behind but he did not care.

 _Let the girl look_ , some distant part of his mind decided.

When Isak pulled away his eyes were hooded and his lips gaped open. They were slick from Even’s mouth and the sight made him want to press something else between them.

He forced himself to look away from Isak’s mouth and into his eyes.

“I will see you tonight.”

It was what Even had said to Isak the night before he had run. Isak had looked anxious than, though Even had not realised it. Now, when Even said the same words he smiled coquettishly and said, “Yes, you will.”

Even gave him one last parting kiss on the forehead before opening the oak panel door and setting out for the day.

 

* * *

 

It was late when Even returned, and the homestead was bright with soft light. The more sentimental part of him noted that it was Isak’s presence that made the home glow but realistically he knew someone had lit all the torches in the homestead.

The fire from the torches crackled and it was the only sound Even heard before the soft padding of feet disrupted it.

He looked up expecting to see Isak, wrapped in his bearskins, or in his soft white night clothes, but instead he saw Eva’s womanly form, leaning against the oak panels of the kitchen door.

She was wearing one of Isak’s tunics and her cheeks were flushed and clean. Though her eyes were still surrounded with harsh rings of purple, she looked far more human than she had the previous day, when Even had won her.

“Isak made me a bath,” she said dully. “I did not know if it would please you but he insisted.”

The bath had made her look more human but she still talked like a dead woman.

“It does not please or displease me. You are allowed to do whatever Isak says. He has my trust,” Even said simply. He did not care what Eva did in her spare time. She could light all the torches in the house and take three baths a day as long as she did not get in his way.

Eva eyed him curiously. “Even though he is a thrall?”

Isak was a thrall who owned his heart, his mind, his body, and his soul. Even’s trust was almost inconsequential in comparison.

“Yes, even though he is a thrall.”

After a moment, Eva walked up to him tentatively, almost circling him like an animal stalking her prey.

“And what does Isak do for this trust?” she asked airily, her tone deceptively light.

Even did not know where she was leading this conversation but her light feet and even lighter voice was disconcerting. It made him itch for the broadaxe on his belt, even though logically he knew she was only a girl who presented no threat to him.

More or less.

Because she was still a girl who had Isak’s heart and trust. A girl who Isak had begged him to save.

He almost hated her for that thought alone.

“He is mine. He does not have to do anything but be mine.”

Even did not know why he was being so honest with this girl who either looked like she wanted to run from him, or gut him like a fish. He was so used to keeping his feelings close to his chest but now, he thought that he could talk for hours.

 _It is Isak,_ he thought. _He has done this to me._

“I wish to have your trust as well,” Eva said, and that is when she reached for the hem of her tunic and pulled it over her head, revealing bruises and raw pink flesh but more than that, breasts and wide hips.

Even nearly smacked his head on the arch of the doorway in his haste to turn his head to the ceiling.

“What are you doing!?”

“Earning your trust.” Eva said steadily, though she sounded unsure now. “I want privileges. I want to bathe and eat, even if Isak is not here. I know you only claimed me to please him. I do not have to be a nuisance for you.” She paused, her heavy breathing the only sound Even could hear. Even the torches seemed to emit no crackling.

“I can be useful,” she added, but then her voice cracked and broke.

Even felt himself deflate at the sound. She was not a threat, an obstacle, or a temptress. She was just a young girl trying to survive. Even could not fault her for that when he had done far worse things than offer his body to live.

“You being cared for does not depend on... _this_. So please, dress yourself.”

He kept his eyes firmly on the ceiling as Eva pulled her tunic back over her head, and down to her knees. When no skin was exposed, he looked down at her cautiously.

Her cheeks were still aflame but Even suspected it was from embarrassment now rather than the heat of her bath.

“You take Isak to your bed,” Eva said bluntly, her eyes unwavering on his. She was not as skittish as she appeared. “Why not me?”

Even did not give either, staring down at her seriously. “Isak is the only one.” He had not taken a lover in years, not since he was a wayward boy with hopes for the future. He had never taken one into his own bedroom.

Still, Eva stared at him darkly, her eyes suspicious. Considering her previous action, Even now understood why. She believed there was an exchange occurring in the homestead. That Even only doted on Isak in exchange for Isak opening his legs for him.

“Isak could cloister himself away in his room and refuse my touch and I would still give him anything he asked for,” he admitted, and he knew it to be true.

Every inch of skin Isak allowed Even to touch was a privilege, no patch taken for granted. If Isak decided that he did not want Even’s hands on him anymore, Even would only say, “Thank you.” for all the times he had.

Even did not know if she believed him but the harsh line of her shoulders relaxed at his words. It was the tension usually held by warriors and Even knew indeed that she was one, for surviving Nikolai’s ‘care’ required the strength of a warrior.

But Even was the strongest warrior in the village, and this was his homestead. More than that, Isak belonged to him.

Eva needed to remember that.

Even stepped closer, till he was looking down at her but she did not look away.

_Stubborn girl._

“I am not a cruel master. I will not rape you or beat you. You will have food and clothing and a bed.” These were not hardships for Even. Food, clothing, and shelter were plentiful. Other things were not. “But let me be very clear. If you ever try to run with Isak, or put his life in danger again, I will show you that I am more than capable of being crueller than Nikolai was.”

Eva flinched at his name, her eyes finally dropping from Even’s cold stare.

 _Good_ , he thought. He did not want her afraid but he did not want her to be _brave_ either. Her being brave had nearly gotten Isak killed

“Eva?” Isak’s voice called and they both startled at the sound. Thankfully, Eva did not notice his show of nerves.

Isak padded through the doorway and Even drunk in the vision of his thrall hungrily.

He was flushed from the bath, like Eva, but his cheeks were rosy and healthy. His golden curls were damp and lay flat against his forehead, making him look even younger than usual. And because he had given his usual night clothes to Eva, he was wearing one of Even’s tunics. The sight of it skirting around Isak’s pale thighs made something possessive and satisfied curl in the pool of his stomach.

“I was looking for you,” Isak said, tugging on her arm. “I thought you had gotten lost. The homestead is so much bigger than…” Isak floundered, clearly not wanting to mention Nikolai, “...the other one,” he finished feebly.

Eva did not answer, her eyes fixed on her feet, before she abruptly looked at Isak and painted on a smile, right in front of Even’s eyes.

“I did get lost. Jarl Even was just reminding me where our room is.” She nodded at Even as she spoke. “I know where it is so I think I will retire now.” She pressed a kiss to Isak’s cheek before weaving past him and heading down the hall.

Isak seemed perplexed but he did not linger on it for long when he fully took in Even’s haggard appearance.

He stepped in the cage of Even’s arms, his thumb lightly tracing the tacky blood on Even’s cheek, and the faint facial hair that ran down his usually smooth jaw.

“Even, you look like you’ve been to Hel and back,” Isak said bluntly.

He felt his lips curl into a smile at Isak’s frankness. “Unlike you, of course.”

Before, Isak would have trembled and apologised for being so rude but now he only smiled bashfully.

“Of course,” Isak said, “I’m clean and well fed while you’re arriving nearly in the morning covered in blood and filth.” He exaggeratedly pretended to wipe his hand off on Even’s wolfskins.

“I do it for you,” Even said, and he saw Isak’s eyes widen in surprise. Even did not know the reason for it. His parents were dead and a homestead was just an assortment of wood and stone without a family to live there. Before, there was no one but Even and he knew that he would have been content to pass on to Valhalla in battle.

But now there was Isak. Isak who needed to be fed and clothed, and who would be beheaded if Even ever fell.

So, he could not die. He would not die.

Isak had taken to stroking the shadow on Even’s jaw, too shy to answer Even’s proclamation. Even wanted to catch his small hands in his own and kiss the blood off the tips, but Isak’s touch was soothing.

“You need to shave,” Isak said softly, “It does not suit you.”

Even agreed, but he still, he teased Isak, “That is not a very nice thing to say.” Then he pulled away and made his way to the dining table, turning the chair around so he could sit in it. “But if it pleases you, have at it, Lille Sol.”

Isak stared at him in confusion, “Have at it?”

Even raised his eyebrows before nodding. “Shave me.”

Isak stepped towards Even, until he was standing between the V of his legs and asked, “You would trust me with that?” he asked apprehensively. Even did not know why he was asking until he remembered that the act of shaving involved a knife pressed to his throat.

If Isak chose to slit his throat, Even would probably hold still so he could get a clean cut. But Isak would never, so Even diverted the question playfully and said, “Yes, I trust you to give me a clean shave. Gods know why, considering you have never had to shave in your life.”

Isak’s face scrunched up in a petulant smile at that, revealing the small gaps in his teeth. “I will give you the best shave you have ever had. I’m the master of shaving.”

He spun out of the room with purpose, returning in a few moments with a wooden bowl full of water, a rag, and a small shaving blade. He set the bowl on the table behind Even, and then after observing Even’s open legs with trepidation, he perched himself on his lap.

He could barely keep himself steady on Even’s knee and Even would not let him put a knife to his face, trembling like he was.

So he put his large hands on the expanse of Isak’s waist and turned him, till he was straddling Even, his thighs on either side of his hips.

“Oh.” Isak said, his voice high with nervousness. Even could feel his warm breath against the crown of his head and he wanted it in his mouth. “This is better...I can reach your face this way.”

When Isak shifted on his lap, to get the shaving blade and dip it in the bowl of water, Even could feel himself harden. Isak felt it too when he settled back onto his lap and his ass settled over Even’s cock.

Isak gasped in surprise and Even expected him to drop the blade and leave. Or perhaps, take the blade to Even’s throat for subjecting him to his desires. But instead, Isak pushed back, until Even’s cock was resting between his cheeks.

Even groaned at the feeling of Isak’s softness against him. It made him want to shuck Isak’s tunic over the small swell of his hips, and fuck into the precious warmth between his thighs.

He held Isak’s hips in both hands and grinded upwards. When the head of his cock caught on Isak’s hole he heard Isak cry out and he felt his hips stutter.

“I’m sorry,” Isak panted, “I’m sorry.”

Even could not make sense of it. His mind was addled with lust, all the blood in his body rushing to other places that their eyes could not see yet.

He kissed the curve of Isak’s cheek wetly, “What are you apologising for, silly boy?”

He forced himself to still his hips, to give Isak a chance to explain and tell Even to stop if he wished it. It took Isak a few moments to come back to himself, his eyes hooded and love drunk.

When he did he said, “I won’t be able to get a clean shave like this.” He said it shyly, like Even cared about the little hair on his face when he had Isak in his lap and his cock against his ass.

He could have laughed but instead he held Isak’s hips still, so he could not move, and pushed him down so he could feel how much Even wanted him.

“I do not care,” he said heatedly, his voice raspy with want, and Isak moaned weakly before he started to push his hips back.

And that’s when the shaving blade dropped from Isak’s trembling hands, landing by his feet and making him flinch. Even looked down when Isak bent down to pick it up but his eyes weren’t drawn to the blade, but to the pink scar that marred Isak’s otherwise perfect leg.

It was pink because of Isak’s bath but the lines were weathered and old. It was a scar from before, when Isak was just a farmer’s boy in a small village in Jutland.

Though it was from before Even knew him, he felt slighted at the sight. Isak was his and had always been his, even if nobody but the Gods had known what was fated for the both of them.

The scar had been inflicted purposefully, straight like it had been enacted with a steady hand that could only be human.

The thought set his mind and his body on fire. Not the lustful fire that had previously consumed him but the fire of anger that felt altogether different.

Someone had taken their hand to Isak to hurt him on _purpose_. And it was not one of the monsters in this village, but one from Isak’s own.

He hiked up Isak’s tunic, making him gasp, but instead of reaching between Isak’s legs, he stroked the exposed flesh of his thigh.

“Who did this?” he asked, darkly. Isak looked down at the scar with dull eyes. Even hated it because it reminded him in that instance of the way Eva had stared at him earlier, broken at the thought of Nikolai’s hands on her.

“She is long dead now,” Isak said plainly, trying to pull his tunic down over his thighs, but Even would not let him.

“She?” Even asked urgently. “Did she die during the raid?” He hoped _she_ had, or better yet that she had died under his blade.

“No,” Isak said, shaking his head sadly, “My mother died during the summer.”

Isak’s own _mother_ had done this to him? Even could not fathom it and the injustice of it all infuriated him. His own mother had been a kind woman. He had fond memories of her rocking him when would fall into the hazy, reckless state of being that made others around him flinch and avoid his path. She would feed him bread and milk, when he could not find the will to get out of bed.

She had been the kindest woman he had ever known and that kindness had been repaid by the Gods with violence.

He had stopped believing in them the winter his mother had been killed, and this revelation reaffirmed his lack of faith.

How could Isak, who was so good and pure and light, have a mother who would scar him?

“It wasn’t her fault,” Isak said, his hands curling around Even’s neck reassuringly, when Even should have been the one comforting him. So, he ran his hands down Isak’s back until they settled on the small of his waist. He convinced himself, it was for Isak’s comfort and not his own.

Isak rested his forehead against Even’s, his warm breath brushing his chapped lips. When he spoke again, he was hushed as if he was embarrassed. “She was afflicted.”

Even felt himself stiffen at Isak’s words but Isak did not notice. His eyes were hazy and wet, obviously lost in memories of the past. “She had been ever since I was a child, so I was the one who had to take care of her. People tried to help. Kind villagers, and Eva of course.” Isak sniffled, holding back tears. “But she never really got any better.”

Even’s own mother had cried when she had realised that Even suffered an affliction. He felt as though he was staring at her mirror when he saw Isak wipe at his eyes with his sleeve.

“What did she do to you?” Even asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Isak panted against Even, but this time it wasn’t from lust but from barely restrained pain. “She was having a fit and she kept trying to attack me. She was convinced I was my father.” Isak pulled his tunic down over his thighs and this time Even let him. Seeing the scar on Isak’s skin simply reminded him of what Isak’s mother did to him.

And worse, what Even could do.

“I tried to leave, to stay with Eva for the night. But she struck me from behind,” Isak said quietly. “And then she ran the hot fire poker from the hearth down my thigh. I passed out after that.”

Even could hear his blood rushing in his ears as he imagined it. Isak lying unconscious on the ground of the dirt hut he lived in, his blood seeping through his breeches and into the earth. That had been done by one afflicted woman. Even was a man, and larger than Isak in all the ways that mattered. He could do far worse.

The thought left him cold and within his mind he felt that familiar disconnect that had pushed him away from his parents in the year before their deaths.

“It is late,” Even said shortly. He stood, keeping one hand on Isak’s waist as he slid him off his lap. He released Isak gently, nudging him towards the doorway.

“I will take care of my own shave, you should sleep.”

“Sleep?” Isak said his voice tinged with annoyance. Even could see his own hardness peeking out from underneath his tunic and forced himself to look away from the sight.

“Yes. Sleep, Isak.”

Isak pouted but obeyed, heading down the hallway to bed. Though Even wanted nothing more than to sleep wrapped around him, he hoped Isak would retire to his own room tonight.

Isak changed his mind at the last moment, and turned on his heel. He walked up to Even and pressed a kiss to his damp jaw before mumbling, “Goodnight,” his mouth twitching with a shy smile.

Even could not let that smile go unmatched so he kissed Isak’s forehead and said, “Goodnight Lille Sol.”

Seemingly satisfied, Isak left Even’s arms and headed to bed.

Alone finally, with no thralls in sight, Even allowed himself to collapse in front of the hearth. One of the red hot fire pokers protruding from the flame stared back at him accusingly.

Isak’s afflicted mother had taken that to his soft flesh and had nearly killed him. Isak had said it was not her fault because he was kind and too gentle, but he was wrong. It had been his mother’s duty to protect him and she had broken it the moment she had taken a fire poker to his leg. Now Even had that duty of care and it would be entirely his fault if his own affliction led him to hurt Isak.

He would rather take a fire poker to himself before turning it against his boy. But he was sure Isak’s mother had thought the same thing before she lost herself. Wants and desires meant nothing when you could not trust your own mind. And as people constantly told him, he was a monster.

The _Berserker_. He had not earned this title for no reason.

No. He would not make the same mistake as Isak’s mother.

With that in mind, he took the bowl of water that Isak had left on the table and put out the fire and the array of torches. He sat there watching the embers die and the pokers grow cold before he too retired to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Implied past Rape/Non-con, Past Child abuse, Past Burning, Internalized Ableism


	13. Up At Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak forms a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We just wanted to give a shout out in these author's notes to all of the lovely people cheering us on and giving us feedback on here and Twitter. It really is so lovely to see how people have embraced this fic and we love writing for you guys! With that in mind, we wanted to post these gorgeous manips by @FiercelyNormal on Twitter/Tumblr which are so close to the way we've pictured Even and Isak it's spooky! 
> 
> As always, if you've like to talk with us on Twitter, we'd love to hear from you. @honkstruck & @DiscoNight
> 
> Trigger warnings and terms can be found at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter 12 - Up At Dawn**

_It ain’t easier_

_Waking up at dawn_

_To find I lost my crown_

_If I found you there_

_With flowers in your hair_

_I’d hold you in my arms_

_Till we came back down_

[A Smile That Explodes, Joseph Arthur](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpOqLuYpERo)

 

**Isak**

When Isak awoke, it was to Even shaking him gently by the shoulder and looking down at him with concerned eyes, his mouth pulled into a thin line. He instinctively reached up in order to pull Even towards him, and he was surprised when Even recoiled from his touch and shook his head.

“You cannot sleep in my bed. Go back to your own room, please.”

Isak looked at Even in confusion, trying to rub sleep away from his eyes.

“Eva is in there.”

“There is ample room on the bed for both of you, as you well know. Now _go_ , Isak.”

Humiliation burned within Isak’s chest and he stared at Even beseechingly for a few moments, frustrated when Even did not even deign to look him in the eye. He had felt a subtle shift in Even’s countenance after he had attempted to shave him, but he had put it down to his own nerves. Now, he saw that Even _had_ inexorably shifted his action towards Isak.

“As you wish,” he said, without meaning it in the slightest. He pushed the covers down to his ankles and saw Even’s eyes rest for a moment on Isak’s bare legs. Then he looked away again. Defeated, Isak padded out of the room on bare feet, heading back to his own bedroom before changing his mind at the last moment and heading out to the main annex of the house where the fire pit burned low.

He added some wood to it and stroked it with the poker, before curling up on the rug in front of it.

He did not understand why this was happening, why he was suddenly out of Even’s favour, and he cast his mind back to earlier, attempting to work out the point in the conversation where Even’s affections for him may have shifted.

There seemed to be only two possible explanations. The first was simple: Even had been so disgusted by the scar on Isak’s skin - his otherwise unmarked skin that Even constantly stroked and admired and took in with hungry eyes - that he was now too repulsed to even look at him.

The second was more complicated. Isak had spoken about his mother, and her affliction, and this had been one of the last things they had discussed. A horrified thought occurred to Isak: did Even believe Isak would be struck down with the same affliction that had blighted his mother and made her capable of harming both her child and herself?

Isak knew that Even had seen him as more than a thrall. Perhaps he had even thought him suitable as a bedmate. Now, though, he was disgusted enough by something Isak had done to remove him from his bed, and to bury himself away and alone in the darkness of his empty bedroom while Isak ruminated by the fire.

Both possible reasons failed to soothe Isak’s mind because there was only one truth that mattered; Even did not seem to desire Isak anymore.

Sleep did not come easily that night. He had known safety and warmth in Even’s arms, however fleetingly, and now he found himself having to adjust to the very opposite. He cursed his mother in that moment, and then cursed himself for thinking ill of a woman who had passed from this world.

Resisting the temptation to cry, he curled up into a tight ball and tried to imagine Even’s strong arms keeping him safely in place. It was an imagined comfort, but it was better than nothing.

 

* * *

 

By morning he was tired, bleary eyed and uncomfortable. The fire had almost burned out during the night and he spent some time building it up again before going back to his bedroom to dress for the day.

Eva was still asleep, and he wondered how early it was. Needing to feel contact against his skin, he crawled into the space next to her and closed his eyes as she reflexively wrapped her arms around him, stirring from her slumber.

“Why are you up at this time? It is unlike you,” she murmured into his shoulder.

“Are you saying I am lazy?”

“Exactly,” she said. “The laziest boy I know.” She yawned quietly. “It is just as well we will not end up marrying one another. I would not have tolerated you sitting around looking pretty while I did all the hard work.”

He pulled away, affronted. “I am no longer lazy. I scrub the floors and cook the meals. Well, some of them. And I -”

“And?”

He paused and frowned. “And -”

Eva giggled, and the sound was so sweet that Isak almost forgot his argument, so relieved was he to hear it. But he could not let her accusations stand and he thought hard about all the work he had been doing, and finding nothing, said, “And I look after the horse!”

“The horse?”

“Yes. I give it food and brush its fur and talk to it sometimes.”

Actually, he had only done this only once or twice, and always under Even’s guidance. But Eva did not need to know that.

“Well, I apologise for thinking so ill of you. Clearly, Even works you to the bone.”

Isak nodded with vindication. “Me, lazy? I’m hurt by your accusation.”

Eva smiled and pushed him towards the bed so she could look him in the eye. “Breakfast?” she asked. “Shall we make a start?”

He rolled his eyes upwards. “If we have to.”

They dressed quickly and then made their way to the kitchen where Eva prepared food over the fire pit while Isak attempted to make himself look useful. When they began to hear Even moving about, readying himself for another day of training, Isak said, “Eva, can I say that I… that I cooked this on my own? Please?”

She looked at him suspiciously but did not object; instead she handed the tongs to him and he finished preparing the food in silence, the hard work already done.

When Even walked through to the kitchen, Isak greeted him with an enthusiastic smile, and said, “I will have the breakfast ready for you soon.” Even looked from him to Eva, who was standing quietly with an almost embarrassed expression on her face. Isak found this odd but did not pay it too much mind; he knew that Eva was a good cook and he hoped Even would find the meal pleasing.

Perhaps Eva was right. If Even also thought he was lazy, he needed to prove his worth to him. Surely then he would show the same affection that had led to him pinning him to the door and taking his mouth in a bold kiss?

But when Eva and he served breakfast for the three of them, Even ate it slowly and methodically without reacting. Isak couldn’t help himself from asking, “Does it please you?”

Isak only realised how out of character it was when Even fixed him with an odd look as he chewed slowly. When he was done he simply replied, “It does, thank you.”

He could feel Eva’s confused eyes on him but he was only able to look at Even. When they had finished, Even stood up, thanked them again for the meal, and shrugged on his wolfskins.

As he headed for the door, Isak trailed over to him and said, “I hope your day is fine, Even,”

Even’s nod and light pat on his shoulder felt like a slap compared to the passionate kiss he had given Isak only days ago. When he strode out of the house, barely sparing Isak a glance, he felt his shoulders sag and his face begin to crumple.

Eva, who had always been good at noticing his moods, asked, “By the Gods, Isak, what is going on?” Isak shrugged, staring at the closed door balefully.

“He does not love me anymore,” Isak replied. “Perhaps he never did.”

“And why would you even _want_ his love?” Eva asked him in disgust. “Have you forgotten who he is? Who his people are, and what they did to us?”

Isak glared at her and then pulled on his bearskins, opening the door. “I am going to feed the horse,” he told her. “Leave me alone,” he added as an afterthought.

Eva merely laughed at that. “I had almost forgotten how ridiculous you look when you’re sulking.”

Isak glared at her, bit his tongue, and then headed out to the stables.

 

* * *

 

If Isak was being completely honest with himself, he did not trust horses. They were too big, their legs too powerful, their tempers too unpredictable. He much preferred the company of the slow cows from their village. Horses were for braver men than him. Still, Eva was of no help and he could not very well talk to himself, and so he needed company that would listen and not answer back.

Even’s powerful black steed was perfect for that.

He had asked Even what its name was, and Even had told him he had never gotten around to giving it one. Isak found this odd, but then Even did not name any of his possessions, not even his sword. It seemed to be one of Even’s strange, society-defying habits that had solidified his status as an outsider within his own community.

Isak brought fresh hay for the horse and laid it in its trough, eyeing the creature warily as he perched atop the wooden rungs next to it. The horse seemed to stare straight back at him before letting out a small huff and beginning to chew on the dried grass in front of him.

“So,” Isak said, feeling stupid. “What am I supposed to do? How do I make Even desire me again?”

The horse ignored him, and continued to eat.

“I mean,” Isak continued, pushing past his embarrassment, “I understand I am a thrall, and he is my master, and therefore I am just expected to accept that he can change his mind like the wind. But… he made me feel as though we…” He paused, sighing. “As though there was something between us. Something… special. More. And now he does not even wish to look at me.”

The horse emitted a loud snorting noise which sounded almost judgmental, its mouth moving methodically as it worked its way through the hay.

“Perhaps I need to do more for him? I am not… experienced,” Isak sighed. “I do not know how to please a man.” The thought concerned him. How could he possibly be good enough to take up residence in Even’s bed when he had never even been touched before? “I believe he thinks I am beautiful but maybe it is not enough. Maybe he desires someone who… who understands how to please him.”

He felt his cheeks flare with heat and he looked around quickly, aware that if Eva interrupted this, he would never live down her amusement.

“Or maybe it’s simply as I feared, that he does not want me because of my ugly scar. Or because my mother was afflicted,” he said, sighing. “I wish I had never told him. I do not believe he wants someone in his life who is capable of that darkness, when he has it inside of him as well.”

The horse finished its meal and looked at Isak expectantly, and Isak looked back, wishing it could dispense some words of wisdom.

“You are useless,” Isak finally said. He eased himself down from his perch and brought his hand forward, meaning to pet the creature. He yelped in pain, however, when the horse reared its head up and then opened its mouth, biting down firmly on Isak’s hand. Isak wrenched it free and stared at the animal in incredulity.

“ _Skidehoved_!” he swore at it. The horse huffed, and Isak’s jaw dropped open. “That is your new name. _Skidehoved_!”

 _Skidehoved_ looked at him and blinked once slowly, as though he was trying to stare Isak down, and Isak rubbed his hand pitifully before walking away, even _more_ frustrated than when he had first entered the stables.

This was his punishment for being foolish enough to confide his troubles to a stupid beast.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, as they all ate, Isak saw Even’s eyes fall to the table before he set down his fish. Isak looked down curiously, and when he saw Even’s eyes fixed on his injured hand, he felt his spirits lift.

He brushed his hair behind his ear with his injured hand, hoping it made him look pitiful enough for Even to dote on him again. But then he realised, acting pitiful on purpose to get Even’s attention _was_ pitiful.

“It was your horse,” he said quietly. “He bit me when I was trying to pet it. It hurts so much.”

Eva was attempting to shine up the faded cooking pots on the other side of the room; she raised an eyebrow at him and rolled her eyes, but Isak pursed his lips and looked at Even, who brought his hand up and inspected it.

 _Please kiss it_ , Isak urged him in silence, but Even did no such thing. He merely rose, and reappeared again, with a tin of salve in hand.

The touch of his large hand on Isak’s smaller one was delicate, but Isak couldn’t help the way his heart quickened. He blushed as Even spread the salve from the tin on to his long fingers, before rubbing it into the shallow wound.

 _He has such strong hands,_  Isak could not help but think. He longed for them to never leave his. His wish went unfulfilled when Even pulled his hand away to close the tin.

“I will not bind it, the bite does not look too serious.”

“It _hurts_ ,” Isak repeated. “Your horse is dangerous.”

“Do you wish for me to kill it?” Even asked, and Isak gaped at him. _He would do that for him? Did that mean he still..._

“Even, I-”

But then Even looked at him and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Isak, I am joking. It is a horse. Horses bite sometimes. I am not going to kill it for obeying its natural instincts.”

 _Oh_ , Isak thought. He was slightly alarmed to realise he was disappointed. The respite from Even’s affections was turning him into a mad man.

“I gave it a name, anyway,” Isak said, rapidly changing the subject to hide his embarrassment. “Seeing as you never got round to it.”

“Oh, and what is that?”

“ _Skidehoved_.”

Even stared at him blankly; from the other side of the room, the pot that Eva was holding clattered to the floor and she looked at him in alarm.

“Hmm. Does it have a special meaning in your land?”

“Yes,” Isak said, glaring at Eva to keep quiet. “It means… _Noble Stallion_.”

“Your language is so pretty at times,” Even said with a smile. Isak smiled back, and for a moment it felt like everything might be fine.

_As long as Even never learned what Skidehoved actually meant._

He noticed Even moving closer to him as he checked his hand over again.

“I can teach you more words, if you like,” Isak said. “Just as you taught me runes.” He looked up from underneath his lashes and Even seemed to soften even further. _Please_ , Isak thought. _Please say yes._

But at the last moment, Even’s resolve seemed to kick in again, biting Isak as sharply as the horse had bitten him this morning. “I am weary from the day. I must sleep now,” he said, pushing Isak away gently by the shoulders. “Good night, Isak.”

He looked to Eva who was trying to ignore the strange tension in the room. “And good night, Eva.”

When he had departed for the night, Isak sighed forlornly and looked at Eva with despair in his eyes. “Please, tell me what I should do? Last night he saw the scar my mother gave me and now he will not even look at me. Do you think he finds me ugly?”

Eva’s stern face softened but when she finally chose to speak to him about Even in a way that did not display her clear resentment of him, her words were still of no comfort. “Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t. I understand these North men no more than you do. They are a mystery to me.”

Her voice was tinged with sadness and Isak realised he was being unfair. He should not be talking to her about his silly romantic worries when she was still bearing the scars of the man she had only just managed to escape from.

Isak approached her and knelt down beside her and helped her in shining the pots. It was good to be able to put his hands to something useful. Tentatively, as they worked, he asked her, “Is everything… is it better here, Eva?”

She looked at him with a small smile on her lips. “Of course it is, Isak. You do not need to worry about me.”

“But I do.”

“Maturity does not suit you,” she sniped at him, but her eyes were bright.

He smiled. “You think I am finally an adult?”

“You will always be my annoying baby brother.”

“We are less than one moon cycle apart!”

“And finally, you are beginning to act like it.” She smiled genuinely for what felt as though the first time since they had been brought to the village. Then it dropped suddenly and she said, “Can I show you something?”

He nodded, and she turned from him slightly, drawing down the shoulder of her loose tunic. He gazed at her bare skin in the lamplight and gasped when he saw what was there. A freshly branded burn mark, imprinted by a poker, lashed across her shoulder. He flinched at the sight of the open wound against her pale skin.

“Now we are both marked,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Nikolai,” he said. It was not a question but she nodded.

“When I was brought back, from the woods. He told me that I needed to learn who I belonged to.”

Isak thought of Even, and how Even had treated him that night; the gentle way he had tended to his wrists, and wrapped him up in warm blankets and stayed with him until he was conscious again. He had so much to be grateful for. And even though he knew it should be enough, that he should not wish for more if Even did not will it so, he still felt a strange hunger inside of him.

He was ashamed of those thoughts, though, when Eva was still so afraid of Even, and of all of these North men.

“Eva, let me tend to this. You have not cleaned it properly and it will take longer to heal. It may even go rotten.”

She gave a small nod and Isak was glad she trusted him enough. He had grown up caring for his Mother, and so he had quickly become acquainted with the best ways to heal wounds. They were usually on her, though, and not him; self inflicted and more serious as the years went on.

In the kitchen he crushed some garlic into a cup of mead, stirring until it had formed a thick and sticky ointment. Then he brought it back to Eva who winced and let out a hiss of pain when he applied it to the wound.

“You should not leave this on for too long. The garlic will irritate your skin after a while.”

“Garlic? Do you wish for me to smell terrible?”

“Garlic is good for healing!”

She looked at him distrustfully. “We’ll see.”

He finished spreading the paste along her skin and then sat back, sighing. He wished he was able to do more than simply spread a home remedy in order to heal the physical scars. He wished he could help his friend to overcome the scars she beared within, where nobody could see them.

“Look at my scar,” Eva continued. “The reason I showed you this was because I wanted you to know… scars aren’t necessarily ugly. They are a sign we survived. So if Even stopped loving you for that, he is a fool. Because you are, as much as I hate to admit it, more beautiful than any other boy in this village. You always were. And he would be fortunate to have you.”

He rolled his eyes at her and then leaned across to kiss her cheek. “And I am fortunate to have you.”

“I, on the other hand, am extremely unfortunate to have _you_. Now help me shine these pots so we can get to bed.”

She caught his eye and smiled, and he rested himself comfortably on the ground in order to help her.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next few moons, he tried his hardest to make it through the night in Even’s bed. Some nights, he would wake up back in Eva’s bed with no recollection as to how he had got there, and some nights Even shook him awake and told him in no uncertain terms he needed to leave.

It was so frustrating and Isak found himself sleeping and eating less, miserable that they had been so close to intimacy and now seemed even more distant than the bleak days when he had first arrived.

When Even was out one day, he and Eva were scrubbing the floors, attempting to keep busy; they heard a knock on the door. It was a strange sound to Isak, and he realised they had not once had a visitor to the house in the whole time he had been here.

He looked at Eva curiously, and she looked back before rising to her feet. He saw her run through to the kitchen before coming back with a small knife; she concealed this in her skirt and then went to the door and pulled it ajar.

On the other side was Vilde, with a girl Isak had not seen before. She was dressed beautifully, with long braided hair and a painted red mouth. She was clearly no thrall. Isak floundered, unsure of how to act around a free woman. He did not need to wonder very long, however, because Vilde’s familiar face immediately appeared behind her.

“Vilde! Noora!” Eva said, her face lighting up, and Isak watched as the three girls hugged each other in joy. He felt a little uncomfortable, kneeling down, the scrubbing brush in hand, and he put it to one side as they entered, Eva closing the door behind them.

“I wanted to come and see you, to make sure you were okay. And Noora said yes!” Vilde said excitedly.

“I am not sure if Even would-” he began, but Eva hushed him.

“Noora is a free woman, she may go wherever she wishes. And Even will not be back for some time. You know this.”

Noora gave him a reassuring smile. “It is Isak, yes? I have heard about you. Eva is right, you do not need to be worried about us visiting.”

Isak gave a small nod, still uneasy about the predominantly female presence in the homestead.  He had become so used to the still and quiet, but now their chattering voices filled the spaces that had been left to silence for so long, perhaps years, and he felt wistful for it, wondering if he would ever truly enjoy the comfort of the homestead when so much of his happiness depended on being in favour with Even.

“Isak, you look so good!” Vilde sounded surprised when she spoke and Isak felt mildly irritated, as he usually did by Vilde’s loose tongue. But then he spotted Eva’s gaunt face and short hair over Vilde’s shoulder and realised what she meant.In comparison, he must have radiated vitality.

Vilde threw herself into his arms and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek that had him recoiling. He patted her back, hoping it would steer her away quicker.

“You look...good as well,” he said stiffly, only relaxing when she released him to turn back to Eva to speak in her loud, shrill voice.

The noise from the three girls was starting to make his head ache. He longed for the familiar silence of the homestead, so he quietly left the room searching for it. The girls did not even look at him as he drifted out, consumed as they were in conversation.

He let his hands skim the walls until he came upon the familiar but almost foreign door to Even’s bedroom. He had been thrown out of here so many times over the past few days, it felt like he was intruding. He pushed open the door cautiously as If Even would burst out of a corner and stonily tell him to leave, as he had all those nights before.

But no one stopped him. It was just the silence he was looking for, and Even’s large oak bed was just the comfort he sought. Isak gingerly sat on the edge, before throwing decorum to the wind and curling himself around the soft cotton sheets. When he pressed his nose to the blanket all he smelt was, _Even,_ and it made him heady. Feeling miserable and sorry for himself, he wrapped himself in the blanket and imagined that Even was holding him, as he had that one night before he and his heart had turned against Isak.

He was half slumbering, exhausted by the lack of sleep he had seen recently, when he was jolted awake by a hand on his shoulder.

He sprung up, heart pounding with the fear that Even had caught him pathetically curled up in his bed like a wayward dog, but it was merely Eva.

She looked uncomfortable and oddly embarrassed. It reminded Isak of the time she had come across him fondling himself as a boy.

This was... somehow even more embarrassing.

Eva appeared to fumble before finally finding her words. “I have been telling Noora about your… problems… with Even. She wishes to speak with you.”

Still burning with shame over being caught in Even’s bed, Isak could not help but snap, “Eva! My business with Even… it is  _private_.”

He was talking about more than one thing and they both knew it. Eva looked oddly at the blanket he was wrapped in before becoming fulfilled with conviction, and ripped it off his shoulders.

“Isak,” Eva said meaningfully, “She was a thrall who married a free man. Do you not think she perhaps has some wise words to offer you?”

Isak huffed out a breath. “Even so, I wish that you would not -”

But Eva had already left the room, flashing an infuriating smirk over her shoulder, and Isak grumpily eased himself out of bed before coming back through to the main annex of the homestead.

The three of them were sat round the dining table, their laughs and smiles infectious as Vilde loudly told a story about a woman she had seen at market and an ugly fruit merchant. Isak could not make sense of it. Women were so strange, and seemed to get stranger with each year that passed. When he slid into the chair next to Eva, they paused for a moment, before Noora looked him up and down. “So, you are the one that is _even more beautiful_ than me, according to the brutes in this village?”

Isak looked at her with wide, frightened eyes before she giggled. “It is fine, Isak. I am not jealous. William does not seem to be infatuated with you, and you are welcome to the rest of them.”

“I do not think Isak is as beautiful as you,” Vilde told Noora sweetly, and Noora laughed before stroking Vilde’s hair.

“Your support is appreciated, Vilde,” Isak said dryly.

“But Eva tells us that the one you wish to take you to bed is… not that way inclined?”

Isak looked at the three expectant faces, and he pushed aside the embarrassment that curled in his stomach to say, “He _was_ that way inclined. But… his mind seems different now. He does not seem to want me any more.” He tried not to mumble the words, embarrassed as he was.

“Perhaps he is afraid you will not be able to take him?” Vilde asked sincerely. “North men are known for their… you know.”

Isak blinked.

“The _size_ of their manhood.”

Eva hit her on the shoulder. “Vilde!”

“It is true, though! When my master William took me, he was…” She held her hands aloft and moved them out, signifying the size. Then she seemed to remember who she was sat with, and looked at Noora with an apologetic smile.

“It is customary for all the Magnussons to take their new thralls,” Noora explained to Eva and Isak. Isak glanced at Eva to see her mouth set in a thin, cold line, the smile now gone from her lips. Noora looked fairly unruffled by the conversation, however, and turned back to Isak.

“Perhaps Even’s blood just runs cold? Here in the North, it is not so strange.”

Isak remembered Even’s hard cock against his ass and his large hands on his hips, making Isak move against his body.

“No, his blood definitely runs...hot.” Isak said, his voice trilling off at the end. Vilde and Noora looked excited at Isak’s slip of tongue but Eva shot them both warning looks. Isak was grateful for it.

Against his better judgement, he looked at her and said, “How do I make him… hotter?”

Noora’s red lips curled into a knowing smile. Isak felt himself blush with embarrassment because she had obviously been waiting for this. “Well, when I want William to take me, I simply flirt with one of the men in the village. One of his fellow warriors. As soon as William sees me doing it he drags me home and…” A flush took Noora’s pale cheeks. “Well, I need not go into details.”

Isak nodded, wondering if the advice was pertinent. Perhaps it was. The problem, however, was that Even rarely took him out, and when he did, he allowed no man to come close to Isak.

Eva, seemed wary of Noora’s words. “Isak, it is not a good idea to provoke the men in this village.” She looked at Noora and bit her lip. “I mean-”

“It is fine,” Noora said with a smile. “It is Isak’s knowledge now to do with as he wishes. I am simply telling him what works for me.”

“In any case,” Isak said, shrugging, “It does not matter. Even never takes me out.”

“But perhaps he would take you to Jolablot?” Noora asked. Isak looked at her in confusion, and Vilde and Eva looked equally as perplexed. “It is in two moons time. A winter festival where the village comes alive with music and dancing and drinking.” She smiled happily. “It is the one thing to look forward to in this infuriating coldness. All the free men and women of the village attend, and many take their thralls.”

And then Isak could no longer help himself: he found himself smiling wildly. This was _perfect_. “Thank you, Noora. This is…” He tried to find the word to express how grateful he felt at her advice. “Well, thank you again. I will consider what you have told me.”

“Isak,” Eva said warningly, but Isak was already lost in his own head, trying to work out scenarios in which he could provoke Even’s jealousy at the festival. How difficult could it be? He knew that the men in this village were to be feared, but Even would never let anything happen to him. And if Noora did it, and seemed so unafraid, then why should Isak be afraid either?

He was certain it was a good plan.

The girls spoke for a while longer as he busied himself making dinner, grateful to have something to do with his time while he thought of ways to ask Even to take him to the festival. _Jolablot._ It sounded fun, and exciting, and he practically hummed with happiness as he sliced through the potatoes in order to add them to the cooking pot.

When Even returned to the homestead, he had a large brown burlap sack in hand. Isak felt goosebumps rise on his entire body when he heard Even’s steps behind him but he did not allow his eye to drift to Even until he spoke. “I… I saw this when I was passing through the market and thought it would suit you.” Isak took the rucksack from Even curiously. It was light and soft, so not stone reading tablets. His curiosity was abated when he reached into the sack and pulled out a luxurious blue tunic.

“Even, I-”

“It will suit you. I know I have been… quieter. And I am sorry. But perhaps this will make you happier.”

Isak wanted to say, _No, I do not want a tunic, I just want you._

But he did not want to appear ungrateful. More than that, he did not want Even to reject him once again. His heart could not take it. So Isak nodded and lied as he ran his fingers over the intricate stitching. “It does, Even. But it would make me even happier to wear it to Jolablot.”

Even frowned. “You know of the festival?”

“We had it in our village too,” Isak said, finally reciting the lie he had practised in his head. “It was my favourite time of the year. I assumed you had it here also.”

“Isak, I am not…” Even paused and sighed. “I am not sure it is a good idea.”

“Please!” Isak said, widening his eyes. “I wish to be outside, Even. To hear music and… to hear people laughing. Please, consider it?” He looked to the ground and murmured, “I do not ask for much.”

He did not have to ask because Even gave him everything he needed. But for the first time in years, Isak _wanted_.

It must have shown on his face because he saw Even’s resolve crumbling in front of him. _Please_ , he thought. _Say yes. Say yes so that I can put my plan into action._

“I will think about it,” Even finally answered. He reached out and ran his long fingers over the tunic that Isak still clasped in his own hands. “I will let you know soon.”

He turned and left the kitchen, heading to his bedroom. Isak leant against the door frame with a small smile on his face. He knew in his heart that Even would not deny him this. And perhaps soon, he would stop denying Isak the feelings that existed between them.

Isak knew it would be two long moons as he waited in anticipation for Jolablot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Brief past allusions to rape. 
> 
> Terms/References:
> 
> Skidehoved - Danish for Shithead. This is a modern swear word; unfortunately our research skills aren't good enough to find regional specific old Norse swear words!
> 
> A general note on healing remedies: Old Norse people would have relied on natural remedies to cure injuries/wounds/illness etc. Garlic is proven to have healing properties and as it keeps well for so long, it would almost have certainly been used in many home treatments all year round.
> 
> Jolablot - A winter festival, traditionally held in February to herald the emergence of Spring. We are taking some artistic license here to hold it in the mid winter, as there would almost certainly have been regional variations.


	14. I'm Going Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's blood runs hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kind comments on the last chapter urging us to continue! It was heart warming to see that so many of you love the story. We will be finishing and updating weekly now that our short hiatus is over.
> 
> I'd like to say sorry about not being able to get the chapter out yesterday like we promised! I had a personal emergency that you might be aware of if you follow me on Twitter @honkstruck. However, this chapter is the longest one we've ever written at 8.5k so I hope that makes up for it.
> 
> It's been a long time coming but finally; some new faces appear in Hålogaland. Please note that Elias is based on S1 Elias and not S4 Elias.
> 
> We hope you enjoy!
> 
> You can follow the both of us @honkstruck and @EllonEarth for updates.
> 
> Trigger warnings are in the end note as usual. We want to stress that the triggers are stronger for this chapter so please heed them if you need them. They do contain spoilers.

**Chapter 13 - I'm Going Under**

_Oh, you'll find me, between_

_The devil and the deep blue sea_

_And I'm going under_

_Oh, you'll find me, between_

_The devil and the deep blue sea_

_And I'm going under_

[Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea, XYLØ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfaHZXWV0g8)

 

When Even lingered by the doorway on the morning of Jolablot, Isak knew what he was going to say but he tried to contain himself. He pretended to sweep languidly by the archway of the kitchen, until Even finally spoke after clearing his throat. 

“I have...considered what you asked and I think you are right.”

Isak looked up at him curiously, trying to look surprised at Even heeding his plea, and failing miserably. Even’s eyes crinkled at the sight of Isak’s small smile, though his face remained placid. 

“Do not look so pleased with yourself. I simply think we both could use a night away from the homestead.” Isak felt his breath catch in his throat when Even stepped forward, thumb brushing his cheek and added, “And you do not ask for much.”

It was the first time Even had reached out to touch him in days and Isak leaned into his touch like a moth to the flame. Before Even had a chance to pull his hand back, Isak reached up and wrapped his arms around Even’s neck till his head was burrowed in the crook of his neck. He could feel Even freeze against him but in that moment he did not care.

“Even if you did not decide to go for me, thank you,” Isak said, his voice raw and blistering with one hundred different things. _Thank you for caring for me. Thank you for saving me._  

One hundred things Isak could not say; not yet at least.

Even’s hands fell to the small of his back tentatively, resting there for a glorious moment before pulling Isak away from his warm body.

“It was for you,” Even admitted, his voice deep but soft in the quiet of the homestead. Isak’s heart in his chest threatened to overpower Even’s voice when he said, “It is always for you.”

Isak felt something else fill his chest, and it wasn’t the pounding of his chest, but hope that Even’s affections for him were not entirely gone. That he hadn’t been entirely disgusting by the ugly scar on Isak’s pale thighs.

Isak allowed Even to pull away from his embrace, his face remaining as blank as he was able until he was gone, the wooden door banging behind him. When he was gone, he immediately sat down and pressed his hands to his cheeks. They were burning hot, both from the blood rushing to his head and the smile he couldn’t restrain.

Eva, who was actually sweeping the kitchen, gave him a disapproving look when she saw the smile splitting his cheeks.  

“It’s a bad idea,” she said, repeating her previous argument, but Isak brushed past her, too happy to listen. “If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn’t listen to Noora! She’s as beautiful as she is foolish. You have that in common.”

“It is not an insult if you call me beautiful in the same breath, Eva!”

Isak heard her yell something back to him, but he had already walked into their shared bedroom with a singular focus.

Before, he thought he had simply been excited for the prospect of Jolablot for the plan he was ready to enact to earn Even’s affections. Now, he realized he was actually excited to get out of the homestead for once. The few times he had were disastrous. The tavern, his and Eva’s misguided escape attempt, and that bloody battle between Even and Nikolai; he still had nightmares about all three events.

They served as brutal reminders not just of the terrible lands he had found himself in but also of the rumours weighing down on Even’s reputation. In the homestead, it was easy enough to put those from his mind; Even was mild and gentle when there were no others around. When Even fought for him, when others called him _The Berserker_ , he was less able to bury the thoughts of what that door said, and what Even may have been capable of.

The homestead was safe. Outside was uncertainty and frozen sea that threatened to swallow him whole. But this time would be different, he told himself. Even was by his side, he would not let anyone hurt him, and he would carry Isak home and kiss him softly and remind him of who he belonged to.

And… _A festival._ His heart lifted with excitement at the thought. While he had lied to Even about having Jolablot in his village, he _had_ gone to a festival in a neighbouring village, just once as a boy. Helene and her husband had taken Eva, and they had been forced to invite Isak and Vilde because Eva could not stop crying at the prospect of going without them. Isak thought it was embarrassing at the time but looking back, he was gratefully because he knew his own mother would have never been able to bring him.

He still remembered the almost overpowering smell of richly cooked meat from the merchant stands, the colourful array of foreign fruit that definitely did not grow in Jutland, and the dancing. Watching the men and women dance in their ostentatious celebratory outfits had been particularly memorable.

Now, he was going to be one of the people he had admired so much as a child. He kneeled next to the burlap sack that held the vibrant tunic Even bought for him, his hands stroking the sack reverently. The small vain part of him that preened when Even and Eva called him beautiful made him want to don the tunic and admire himself to see what Even and other men found so attractive. But it was barely morning, and his male pride would not allow for it. So he forced himself off of the floor and back into the kitchen to help Eva clean.

He tried to sweep the kitchen, but Eva angrily grabbed the broom from him, after a few minutes of watching him half heartedly sweep.

“You’re just spreading the dirt around! Go wash the dishes, you can’t mess that up,” she said, and Isak proved her wrong.

The first bowl that slid from his clumsy fingers chipped at the rim and spilled water on to the floor at Isak’s feet.

He could feel Eva’s heated gaze on his neck as he got down on his knees and cleaned up the mess, before he stood and began washing again.

When another sopping wooden bowl fell from his hands, and onto the recently cleaned floor, Eva screamed in frustration, nearly causing Isak to jump out of his skin. 

“What was that for!?” he asked, as Eva stared at the bowl and the water like Isak had trekked horse dung into the house.

“By the Gods, you’re useless,” Eva said, so resigned it barely sounded like a rebuke. “Useless and lazy. Just...get out of my way and let me work.”

So Isak guiltily walked around the bowl and retired to the hearth with the rune tablet Even had used to teach him, and read the letters over and over again until they blurred together into a mess of lines and shapes.

All he could think of was Even.

By the time the letters had started to make sense to him again, it was dark, and his mind was only full of thoughts of Jolablot.

Now that it was appropriate and Even’s arrival was imminent, he allowed himself to indulge in his vain desires to finally return to his room and don his tunic.

The thick and vibrant blue of the tunic stood out against the pale of Isak’s thigh before his slid his breeches on. The only piece of fabric that rivalled it was the quilt he slept with, also a gift from Even. All the brightest things in his life were.

The tunic was soft and warm against his arms, but more than that, it was beautiful. Isak did not long for comfortable and warm clothing. His clothing was thick and Even left him needing for nothing. But the efficient white cotton tunics and shifts that served as Isak’s uniform were just that: efficient at doing their job but not for much else. This tunic was much more.

_It makes my eyes look brighter and my hair look more golden,_ Isak realised, and for a split second, he realised why so many called him beautiful. That second was broken by his thoughts being echoed back to him by Even.

“You look beautiful,” he said. Isak spun around, to see Even staring at him, leaning against the archway of his room.

“Thank you,” Isak said in a small voice, before clearing his throat, “It is just the tunic, though.”

“No,” Even said simply and Isak deflated. If Even did not like the tunic then perhaps Isak should don one of his usual white ones. His heart hurt at the thought. But then Even shook his head and said, “I mean, It is not the tunic, it is you. Only you could make it look so lovely.”

“Oh,” Isak said, his face flushing with pleasure but also trepidation. _What was he to say to that?_

Even’s easy compliments made him want to throw himself into his arms, and press a kiss to his full lips, as he had done so many times in the past. But the memory of Even’s many rejections were more present in his mind as well as Noora’s lesson on how to make Even... _run hot._ He would not forgo his plan so easily.

So he nodded like Even had told him the sky was blue and asked, “Will we be leaving soon? I’m far too excited.” That part was not a lie, although his composed face was a mask.

Isak’s lack of reaction seemed to perturb Even, Isak noticed childishly. _Good_.

“Yes,” Even said slowly, “We’ll be leaving immediately. The festivities have already started and I’d rather we go earlier than later so we can return and sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“That’s fair,” Isak said, wondering if the other Northmen would come out to the festival earlier, or later.

Isak followed Even to the doorway and allowed Even to place his bearskins around him, before putting on his own wolfskins. Only when he was dressed did he realise; they had not asked Eva. 

She stood by the doorway, broom in her hand, like a sad character in a children’s tale.

She must have noticed his guilty expression because she rolled her eyes and said, “Have fun, but I would choose a solitary evening in the bath over a night drinking and encouraging boorish men any day.”

Isak understood why. Besides Eva’s new found distaste for men, she had also acquired a taste for baths. She bathed nearly every day and to Isak’s surprise, Even never said a word.

“Encouraging boorish men?” Even repeated curiously. Eva quickly amended herself and said, “You know how men can be. Childish. Hot blooded. _Quick to act without thinking._ ” She looked at Isak pointedly and Isak resisted the urge to stick his tongue out like a child. He was not one, despite what Eva said.

“Right,” Even said, clearly deciding that deciphering the code between Isak and Eva was too much effort.

“Right,” Isak repeated, “Let’s go now.”

As they set out, Isak felt Eva’s eyes burning into the back of his neck, her gaze far more searing than it had been over the fallen bowls.

Even kept one hand on his back as they trekked through the silent planes of ice that divided them from the rest of the village. The slippery surface almost seemed like a challenge that he needed to cross to get to the festival. Even stayed annoyingly balanced, though his hand on Isak’ back was unwavering. 

After they finally crossed the ice field and managed their way to the main annex of the village, Isak begun to smell the rich smell of what could only be freshly cooked meat and the sound of men and women screaming. Behind the sound of voices that they followed, there was an infernal noise that made Isak’s ears feeling as if they were bleeding.

“What is that?” he said in annoyance, as the noise seemed louder, the closer they got.

Even looked him in confusion and said, “That is music Isak, surely they have music back in Jutland?”

_Oh we have music in Jutland,_ Isak thought, _but it definitely doesn’t sound like that._

Isak did not get a chance to voice this opinion because he soon became distracted by the sheer sight of the festival.

The village square was littered with merchant stands, even more than the market usually had. The majority of people were dressed in bright robes like Isak, and they seemed to feel every crack and crevice between stands. Tricksters walked around, playing tricks for small audiences in exchange for coin. Isak watched one of them eat fire, before opening his mouth to reveal that he had swallowed it.

_Amazing_. He had never seen anything like it.

Isak’s stomach soon distracted him from the tricksters so he tugged on Even’s large hand and said, “Can we buy some meat? I want horse.”

Even nodded, and interlaced their fingers before leading Isak towards a merchant stand that was not quite as busy as the others. Isak felt his heart race at the feeling of Even’s hand in his and cursed his weak heart. He leaned against Even’s chest, one of Even’s hands engulfing his while the other rested on his hip.

When they made it to the front of the queue, Even slid a few coins into Isak’s palm so he could order.

“Could we have two roasts please?” Isak looked back at Even’s tense form behind him and added, “And a tankard of wine.”

The merchant looked uncomfortable for a moment, but then he looked over Isak’s shoulder and nodded, before hastily taking his coins.

_Peculiar_ , Isak thought as he handed Even his tankard and bit into the warm meat. He moaned obscenely at the taste and Even shot him a shocked look.

Isak chewed delicately before sheepishly saying, “Sorry.”

“We should sit,” Even said abruptly, dropping Isak’s hand like it was hot iron. It stung, after having Even hold him so closely as they waited at the merchant stand. The sting in his chest filled Isak with the renewed conviction to carry out his plan. 

So when they entered a village hall decked out in chairs and tables and full to the brim with men and women alike, he scanned each party and looked for a male face, someone non-threatening to Isak but handsome enough to flirt with. Nobody immediately stood out for him: the men of Hålogaland were mostly ugly and brutish. Even was a rare exception with his full lips and handsome features.

Isak felt his interest piqued when he saw a handsome stranger who was almost definitely _not_ from Hålogaland.

The stranger was sun kissed, unlike Isak and all the other God forsaken people who lived in this cold wasteland. And unlike the rest of the villagers who were dressed in vibrant tunics and dresses like Isak, he only donned a modest black shift. His hair was a mess of brown curls, even curlier than Isak’s, and hidden underneath those curls was a pair of thick brows.

_Handsome_ , Isak decided. _Definitely handsome._ He sat across from a companion who was of similar colouring but of dissimilar disposition. Unlike the handsome stranger, he had limp black hair, and a comparatively unimpressive pair of sparse brows.

He wouldn’t do, he was far too unattractive for Isak to even pretend to have affections for. Even would see right through him. He turned his attention back to the handsome one and considered how to approach him.

Were men from the places where the sun burned fiercely even crueller than men here? When the man laughed and threw his head back, however, Isak realised that he looked kinder than any man he had seen yet, even if his eyebrows were somewhat intimidating.

He felt guilt churn his stomach and he pretended it was from the rich food, and not from what he was going to use this kind stranger for.

_I won’t let Even hurt him,_ Isak promised himself.

“I wish to sit here,” Isak said, and without looking back at Even or waiting for his approval, he sat down next to the foreigner and his companion.

The handsome man was engaged in conversation, his curls bouncing as he nodded passionately and yelled something in a foreign tongue.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Even look at him consideringly before sitting across from Isak at the table, beside the stranger’s unnattractive companion.

“Hello,” Isak said loudly, but he was sure his voice was drowned out by the bellowing voices of the other Northmen. But somehow without reason, the stranger heard him and turned to look at him.

“Hello,” he replied, Isak was surprised that he spoke the same tongue as him, although the words were clumsy in his foreign mouth, “And who might you be?”

“I’m Isak,” he said nervously, and it came out like a question.

“Well Isak, I’m Jonas,” he replied, offering his hand out so it hung between them. Isak stared at in confusion until he realised, Jonas wanted him to...hold it? He reached out and cautiously grabbed it. As he did so, he saw Even stop drinking, and place his tankard down beside him. It was almost exhilarating to have the power to control a man with a touch of hand. He understood why Noora did it to get William’s attention.

Jonas shook his limp hand, to serve a purpose Isak did not understand, before turning back to his companion and beginning to speak again. Isak could not lose his attention so he quickly asked,“Why are you here?”

His hands flew to his mouth, shocked at his own boldness. Even’s unusually kind nature was making him too comfortable. No free man would usually tolerate a thrall being so intrusive. However Jonas seemed charmed by it and laughed before answering.

“I’m a missionary,” Jonas replied, staring at Isak expectantly. Isak did not want to look ignorant so he nodded like he understood, but from Jonas’s amused expression, he wasn’t very convincing. It was probably his damned eyes. Eva always said that they gave away everything he was thinking.

“You have no idea what that means, do you?” Jonas asked. Isak looked down in embarrassment and shook his head but Jonas laughed and said, “Don’t be embarrassed. A missionary is a messenger who travels to teach others. Elias and I are Christian missionaries, though he gets less Christian by the day.” Jonas pointed at his companion who nodded back at him, his eyes somehow unwavering on Isak’s face.

Isak tried to pay him no mind as his mind raced to catch up with what Jonas was saying. “We were travelling with an envoy of others but the rest of our party left us in Jutland.” Isak jumped to attention at the mention of his old home. It had been such a long time since he had heard it said without sadness.

“Your party?” Isak asked as he struggled to remember the word Jonas and used to describe himself and his companion, “Were they all...Christians like you?”

Jonas shook his head and said, “No, we were travelling with an Islamic missionary, named Sana. Although we didn’t agree on much she was a fair companion. Very intelligent and...devout.” Jonas looked pointedly at Elias who was gorging himself on drink and Isak stifled a laugh. “It’s a shame she couldn’t stand the weather.”

Christian and Islam were different faiths, Isak figured. He logically knew there must be other beliefs in the world but he had never heard of them before, much less met a believer of a different faith. “There aren’t many of us willing to come all the way up here.” He shot a quick, accusatory glance at Even before bringing his eyes back to Isak. “How do you stand it?” 

Isak doubted Even could hear their hushed voices under the loud raucous noise filling the hall but the thought of Jonas judging Even without knowing him made him snap, “Even is actually very kind. It was hard living here at first but he has never harmed me or forced any untoward duties on to me.” Isak thought of Eva’s bruised and broken body when he quietly added, “I think I’m very lucky.”

When Jonas stared at him blankly, his eyebrows furrowed, Isak realized he was asking how he could stand the inclement _weather_.

And instead Isak had told him about his lack of ‘untoward duties’. If Jonas wasn’t put off by his bold tongue, he was definitely put off by a vulgar tongue. Isak felt his face burn with shame at his misstep. Eva had been right. He had no idea how to seduce a man without embarrassing himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Isak tried to say as he stood, but Jonas grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back down on the bench beside him.

“No, no don’t be,” Jonas said, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle into Isak’s arm. No man had touched him since Even and...Nikolai, he thought bitterly. It was odd but not unpleasant. But then Jonas pulled his hand away and Isak realised: he had no sexual desire for Isak. None whatsoever. He did not leave him any lingering glances, or let his touch run for longer than appropriate. It made the humiliation sting more; if he couldn’t even make a foreigner run hot for him then what hope did he have of seducing Even?

He was so wrapped up in his misery at his plan so quickly failing that he did not realize another man had approached them.

“Isak?” Isak startled when Even’s deep voice was suddenly by his ear. He had not noticed Even coming around the table, he was so caught up in his frustration at not being able to do as he had intended.  
  
Even looked down at them coldly but Isak knew his eyes were for Jonas so he tried not to take offence.  
  
“Erik has commanded my presence. I need to go and speak with him. I will be back shortly,” Even glowered at Jonas behind Isak’s shoulder before saying, “Stay here until I get back.”  
  
Isak saw Erik waiting behind Even, almost concealed behind the mess of Even’s thick wolfskins and hair. The sight of his face made Isak remember the smell of burning flesh and the feeling of his cold bare back being exposed to the hoard of men. The memory made him nauseous and Even noticed.  
  
“Is this agreeable? Or do you need me to stay?” Even asked levelly, watching Isak’s face closely. Isak did not know much but he knew that Even could not say no to a man of Erik’s status, just because Isak was feeling a little unsettled.  
  
So he smiled and shook his head, “It is agreeable,” Even stood there longer like he did not believe Isak’s words.

“I am leaving you with this man because he is a holy man. They do not have sexual urges, so I have heard.” Isak knew that was untrue. All men, even holy men, had sexual urges, unless they were eunuchs. _Not that I have anything to worry about,_ Isak thought sourly. Jonas's lack of interest in him was evident, regardless of his holiness.

Even’s face was a low rumble in his ear: Isak was sure nobody else could hear him. “If you feel threatened, I need you to run to the tavern, do you understand? Run there and ask Christine to hide you until I have returned.” Isak watched as Even swallowed in what looked like pain but seemed to be more like anger. “I cannot say no to Erik, you understand?”

Isak listened, understanding that Even did not wish to leave him, and felt better for it. He nodded and said, “I’ll be fine, I will not bring any attention to myself.”  
  
Even nodded, finally satisfied with Isak’s words, and turned away with a reluctant stiffness. Then he followed Erik down the hall, and outside.  
  
When they were out of earshot, Isak heard an unfamiliar voice say, “That man is your master?” It took Isak a moment to remember that Jonas had called this man Elias.  
  
“Yes,” Isak admitted, “I suppose he is in your country. But I do not call him that. He is Jarl Even to you, but just Even to me.”  
  
“Strange,” Elias said slowly, his hands on his chin in contemplation, “That he is the master, and easily one of the most formidable warriors in the village, from what I have heard, but he defers to you like _he_ is the thrall.”  
  
Isak felt himself grow perturbed by Elias’s drawling, almost accusatory tone. He said it as though Isak must have cast a spell upon Even to make him behave in such a way.  
  
“He is strange but I like him,” Jonas said sharply, interrupting Elias. “I was nervous before, the way he was watching us while he spoke. I thought he might reach across the table and run me through. But I see now that I was mistaken. Especially after you told me he doesn’t force any ‘untoward duties’ on to you. He obviously cares about you.” Isak blushed, both at the reminder of his bold words and also Jonas’s observation.  
  
He did not know what to make of Jonas’s overly kind assertion of Even but it was preferable to Elias implying that Even was weak so he smiled and said, “I wouldn’t place any bets on him not running you through,” he said honestly. A sour part of him almost wish Even had tried to prove his love for him. Maybe Noora was right; perhaps Even just ran cold. Not just for Isak, but in all things. The feeling of Even’s kiss and cock between his legs now felt like a distant mirage he couldn’t quite grasp.

Elias stood and took his tankard with him, presumably to go and refill it. Isak eyes followed him until he disappeared in the crowd and only then, did he notice that Nikolai’s eyes were on him too. If he was watching Elias or Isak, Isak was not sure. His attention was drawn back to Jonas when he hunched his shoulders and leaned into to Isak’s space.

“You are…” Jonas lowered his voice, looking around like they were conspiring and whispered, “A thrall then? And that Even man is your master. ”

“Yes? It is as I told Elias.” Isak said, confused by Jonas’s theatrics. Many of the people at the festival were thralls. It was no sordid secret, though he whispered it like one. “You shouldn’t call him ‘that Even man’, you should call him Jarl Even. I know you’re a foreigner but if the wrong person heard you calling him by his name you could get in trouble.”

Jonas’s brows furrowed again and this time, Isak was able to discern that they were furrowed in anger.

“Although _Jarl_ Even seems to be a kind man, I find it difficult to respect any man who employs such a custom." Isak had never heard someone say a high ranking title like Jarl with so much contempt before.

"It is just despicable to me, the rules that people keep here,” Jonas said furiously, “I heard about the barbaric practice of keeping thralls when I was staying at a monastery in England.” Jonas shook his head in disgust. “They told me about the nuns and the altar boys who had been taken on a raid by North men and what happened to them. Awful things, that aren’t fit for your ears.”

“I think I can handle it,” Isak said dryly, even though he found himself intrigued by this stranger who called the practice of keeping thralls ‘despicable’. It was simply how things were done, and Isak had never considered it barbaric before, although he loathed the conditions of his own bondage.

Jonas wilted at Isak’s reprimand and quickly said, “Of course you can handle it, please don’t mind my slip of tongue. You’ve probably suffered more hardship in your short years than I have in my entire life.”

Isak felt himself blush at the praise but also burn in shame at the implication behind it. “I don’t need your pity,” he said, forgetting his plan for a brief moment, “As I told you, Even is very kind to me.”

_What was he saying?_ he thought churlishly. He _did_ need Jonas’s pity to keep his attention. The only reason men fell in love with women, and he supposed men, was because they were beautiful or pitiful. Both were why Even had originally chosen him, he was sure.

However, Jonas was a foreigner, and all the stranger for it, because he apologised again, and said, “I do not pity you. I think you are quite strong actually, to survive a raid and this neverending winter.”

“Strong?” Isak said incredulously, “You know nothing about me. In fact, I’m sure you’re much stronger. You’re little older than me and you’re travelling the world to spread the word about your Gods: Christian...and the rest of them.”

When Jonas laughed at his words Isak felt himself grow annoyed. All Jonas seemed to do was laugh at him. This time, Jonas noticed his annoyed expression before he spoke. “Do not be angry with me, your slip of tongue is endearing.” As Jonas begun to explain, Isak realised Jonas did not laugh to be cruel, but because he was good natured. 

“First, there is only one God,” He said, holding up one finger. Isak startled at the proclamation. How could one God take care of all the different parts of human life? Where would he find the time?

“God is not called Christian, he is simply called God. He is our Lord and saviour. His son is Jesus Christ, and the reason why the religion is called Christianity. And within both of them and everything, is the Holy Spirit.” 

It was all very confusing but Isak nodded slowly.

“And what does this God say about Hålogaland? About thralls and North men and the rest?” Isak teased, gesturing to the sweeping hall full of men, women, and children. Jonas’s beliefs seemed outlandish to him, too foolish and simple to even be blasphemous, “Can your Holy Spirit exist in such a cold place?” 

For the first time, Jonas did not meet his teasing with a laugh. “I suppose God wants to save the people here. There is so much suffering everywhere but here, most of all. I’ve only been here for three moons and I have seen despicable things. A thrall woman, dragged by her hair and taken against her will, a boy who had his had cut off for stealing a husk of bread, and of course you.” Isak looked up in surprise at Jonas’ words.

“You said you did not pity me,” Isak reminded him, his tone oddly subdued.

“I don’t pity you. A strong boy with your looks and intelligence could be doing great things with his life, if he had the means. Great things far away from here.” Isak did not know what those _great things_ could be but he felt his stomach lurch at the thought of leaving Hålogaland. And he was conflicted to realise the fantasy did not make him feel afraid, it made him elated.

“It’s just a terrible waste,” Jonas said, his eyebrows furrowed again in sadness. Isak was disturbed to realize that he had met Jonas little more than an hour ago but he could already discern his mood from his brows.

“And the Holy Spirit exists everywhere, within all people and things regardless of the arbitrary status made by man.” Jonas said it so passionately, that Isak found himself believing, even if he could not comprehend the concept of only one God or this Jesus Christ person.

_Imagine,_ Isak thought, _that status did not matter and some divine spirit was with everyone because we are all equal._ It was a comforting thought that filled Isak with hope. Since he had accepted his fate as a thrall, he had not allowed his mind to think of freedom.

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by Elias, who had wandered back over to their bench, this time sitting beside Isak, instead of across from Jonas. Isak found himself leaning into the warmth of Jonas’s shoulder so his thigh wouldn’t touch Elias’s but it did not lessen the stench of Elias’s breath or the heat of his body.

“I do not know as much about the Holy Spirit as good ol’ Jonas over here,” slurred Elias, his hand reaching across Isak to clap Jonas’s shoulder. Jonas shrugged it off, his face open and as easy as ever but Isak couldn’t help himself from tensing, “However, I disagree, entirely. Status is made for a reason. It is the reason a man rules in every land we go to: in this world there needs to be someone on top and someone on the bottom.”

His gaze was blatantly lustful, and it made Isak recoil in disgust. Jonas’s body was plied with alcohol so he did not pick up on the double entendre. He only laughed and said, “You are a fool, my friend, and barely a Christian if you truly believe the words you speak. The entire world is unhappy because of status. No man is above the rest, the only one that should be is the Lord, our God.” 

“Your God,” Elias pointed out, before taking another swig from his tankard. Personally, Isak thought he had quite enough but he stayed silent. When the tankard ran empty, Isak internally rejoiced until Elias then turned his beady eye back to him.

“Isaac,” he said, “Fetch me another tankard.”

It took Isak a moment to realize he was talking to him. He had never heard such a vulgar pronunciation of his name.

“My name is Isak,” he said curtly, keeping his eyes on the table in front of him. He would not rise to the bait.

“And you can’t order Isak around, you are not his master,” Jonas interjected shortly. The issue of status was obviously a familiar topic of discord between them. And while Jonas’s defense was comforting, it was also wrong. Any free man here could order Isak, as long as they didn’t interfere with Even’s claim over him.

“You may not agree with the customs of this place Jonas, but I think I admire them. It’s useful and efficient,” Elias dropped his tankard on the table, this time directly in front of Isak’s face and said, “And I intend to fully enjoy the customs of Hålogaland as long as I am here.”

Isak’s face burned with humiliation as he grabbed the tankard, and stood from the table. He heard Jonas berating Elias as he left which made him feel better. The queue to refill the tankard was so long, that by the time he returned, both Jonas and Elias were sober. The only reason Isak could tell was because Jonas had lost the easy smile he had been wearing all night.

“Here’s your tankard,” Isak said flatly, placing it in front of Elias and moving to sit across from the two men at the table.

He was stopped by Elias’s hand on his arm, pulling him down and into his lap.

“I am very thankful,” he said. Without the slurring from alcohol on his tongue, it sounded ominous.

“Let go of me,” Isak yelped, as he attempted he stand up, to no avail. Elias’s arm around his waist was like a vice.

“Elias, what are you doing?” Jonas asked seriously, his hand clenched around the handle of his tankard like he might use it to bash in Elias’ head. Isak closed his eyes, unsure what had happened, why this had suddenly gone very wrong. Something had emboldened Elias, but Isak was sure it was not anything he had done to encourage it.

_Where was he? Where was Even?_ Isak thought desperately, his eyes darting across the hall for the familiar wolfskins. All he saw were unfamiliar faces, some interested at the sight of Even’s prized thrall on another man’s lap. It was the same way Isak had looked at the trickster eating fire. Like Isak was just another passing attraction at the festival.

“I told you Jonas, I’m enjoying the customs of the land while we’re here. I have been advised that it is expected. That these thralls are here for our _attentions._ ”

And that’s when Elias reached for the collar of Isak’s tunic and _tugged_ and all hell broke lose.

Almost as if they were waiting for an opportunity, the North men approached the table and began goading Elias with comments. It was like a fervour for bloodlust had taken over them all because of the festival. His eyes darted round: he saw no women, no children. He felt ashamed with himself for not noticing the shift in atmosphere, the descent into debauchery as he had sat listening to Jonas’s softly spoken words.

“He dresses as if he is free, he needs to be reminded of his place.”

“Let’s see if he’s as pretty as his clothes.”

“I’ve always wanted to know what a hole that can keep _The Berserker_ occupied is like.” 

Isak had encouraged them with his fine tunic and his lack of regard for his status, they all seemed to imply. Because he had the nerve to talk like them and dress like them, he deserved to be raped and beaten for all to see.

Jonas was right; these people were despicable.

“Elias, what the hell are you doing!? Let go of him!” Jonas yelled, but when he tried to pull Isak from his lap, two men pulled him before throwing him from the circle while a few members of the crowd pelted him with rotten fruit for trying to ruin the fun.

Isak recognized one of the men as Bjorn; one of Nikolai’s men; the same one who had advised Even to ‘fuck him boneless’ on the voyage here. When he saw Nikolai and another familiar faces from the raid materialise in the baying crowd, things began to make more sense.

“Even will kill you all for this,” Isak heard someone saying. He looked around with blind hope to see that it had been Christoffer. He was smiling like the rest of them but it did not meet his eyes. In fact his eyes never settled on Isak, who was held on Elias’s lap.

Isak was struck with the odd realisation that he was the only one who did not want to look.

Elias’s hands on Isak’s breeches stilled, as he weighed the cost of taking Isak’s body against his wish to stay alive.

“Please Christoffer, my father has Even occupied,” Nikolai laughed sharply, and Isak suddenly and distinctly remembered Erik asking Even to speak with him and Nikolai intently watching Elias leave their table.

_He planned this,_ Isak thought bitterly, _Like a serpent._

Isak did not know if it was punishment for leaving Nikolai for dead or for Even humiliating him in battle and taking Eva. All he knew was that Nikolai would suffer for this.

“I just think our visitors should enjoy all the hospitality Hålogaland has to offer,” Nikolai gestured at the crowd who were roaring with approval at his words, their tongues loosened by the vast amounts of alcohol they had drunk. He continued, “It is the spirit of Jolablot, after all.”

Christoffer gave Nikolai a perturbed look, as he was thumped on the back by men trying to push him away. He made eye contact with Isak for a brief moment, and Isak pleaded silently, certain that he was the only one who could speak up and stop this from happening.

But then he disappeared into the crowd.

Elias seemed emboldened by Nikolai’s assurance because he whispered, “Oh, I can’t wait to bend you over this table and fuck you.” His look was hungry, almost starving, his hands in Isak’s hair as Isak tried to struggle away, held in place by determined hands. And so Isak did the only thing he could do: he recoiled and spat in his face.

Elias froze at Isak’s action, his fingers delicately wiping the spittle from his brow. Isak hoped it smelt like the meat he had gorged himself on earlier.

“You’re not the first man to say that and you’re definitely not the strongest,” Isak said. He took great pleasure in the humiliation that clung to Elias’ face. He took even greater pleasure in the spit. If this was to happen, he wanted everyone to see that he had fought back. That he had not bent over prettily for this man.

When Elias slapped him across the face, Isak could not find it within himself to regret his words. If he was going to be violated, he was going to go down fighting. The time for cowering and hiding behind Eva’s skirts was over.

The crowd grew even more lively at Elias finally showing some violence toward Isak. They goaded Elias into punishing him again. He beamed at them, happy to meet their approval. 

“Let me get him bent over and then I will-”

Elias did not get a chance to deliver on his promises because Even’s voice interrupted the raucousness and said, “What did you say you were going to do?”

The crowd parted for him as he was easily the tallest man there, and the hall grew silent. His broadaxe was already drawn, his face dark as he observed the scene. Isak sagged against Elias in relief.

_Finally, Even had gotten free of Erik._

Elias had stiffened against Isak in fear, unmoving at the sight of Even’s large countenance. He was no warrior. Just a weak man that Nikolai had goaded into doing his dirty work. They were pathetic, the both of them. 

“Well?”

Isak let out a small moan of relief as Elias’s arms, that had felt like a vice, fell from his waist, allowing him to slip off of his lap easily. He immediately went to Even, settling against him. He knew Even could not coddle him here. There was no time time to hold him or tend to the places where Elias had touched. Instead, Even’s eyes looked over Isak’s body, taking in every mark like the personal grievance it was for him.

When he saw Isak’s red cheek, he reached out and grazed the red skin with the back of his hand. Isak flinched at the contact in pain, and Even turned away. His face was incandescent with rage.

“You said you couldn’t wait to bend my thrall over that table and fuck him, is that right?” Even asked coolly. He walked closer to Elias’s, his pace languid even as he swung the broadaxe by his side.

Elias whimpered but did not respond. When Even grabbed Elias by the hair, and threw him over the table in a crude imitation of how Elias said he had wanted Isak, the crowd erupted again, this time throwing rotten fruit and alcohol at Elias. 

They did not care whose blood was spilled, Isak realised. They simply wanted blood, fear, or both.

When Even wrenched Elias’s breeches down, Isak stared with wide eyes, scared that Even would punish Elias in exactly the same way he had told Isak he was going to. Elias clearly thought so too, and stilled in abject humiliation, no fight in him.  

What Even did instead was much worse.

He brought his broadaxe down hard, on Elias’s wrist against the table. Isak felt a scream escape his throat, but it was drowned out by the noise from the crowd. He heard men cheering Even on and women from further away shrieking but all he would remember from this moment was Elias’s agonized screams. When Even was done with one hand, the one that had slapped Isak, he started on the second one and the horror started anew. Even did not stop until the second hand was cut clean from his body.

Then he pulled a short dagger from his belt and plunged it into his neck. Elias’s screams stopped as he passed on. Where he would end up, Isak had no idea. Perhaps _Hel_ , perhaps some place far worse.

_I will cut off the hands of any man that touches you_ , Even had promised Isak all those moons ago. Isak had taken it as a broad proclamation to comfort and assure him of Even’s loyalty. But now he had physical proof of it, in the form of two bloody hands. When the fingers twitched in a phantom mimicry of life, Isak gagged.

Even noticed, and let Elias’s limp dead body fall to the ground, before picking up the dismembered hands and throwing them to the crowd. The crowd parted for them like Even had thrown torches at them.

It did not matter; the blood was everywhere. It was in Isak’s eyes, and in his mouth, almost like it was a part of Isak’s very being.

When Isak’s legs gave out, Even was immediately by his side, hoisting him up into his arms. They were lost in the crowd who had gone back to cheering and celebrating, stepping over Elias’s body, as if Even hadn’t just killed a man. 

Isak hung limp in Even’s arms as they started the trek back home. The cold seemed to numb Isak even further as he fell victim to his thoughts.

He only begun to sluggishly come to his senses at the sight of the homestead in the bleak darkness.

He did not want to enter the homestead covered in blood. The homestead was safety and warmth, not... _this_. “I need to get clean, Even, I need to get clean, please, please,” Isak pled, his voice weak in his own ears as he tugged at Even’s collar.

“I will get you clean, I promise,” Even said and Isak quieted because he now knew that Even kept his promises.

The hearth was still burning when they returned, and Isak numbly noticed the silhouette of Eva’s auburn head illuminated by the flame. He had hoped she had gone to bed. He did not want her to see him like this. His shoulder was still exposed from when Elias had grabbed him by the tunic and he could still taste his blood in his mouth. 

“How was the festival?” Eva asked lazily, her tired eyes fixed on the fire. Neither of them responded so eventually, she turned her gaze to them. When she spotted Isak’s limp body in Even’s arms and the blood staining the both of them, she stood, nearly tripping over her own legs in her haste to get to him. 

“Isak!” she yelled, her hands pressing to his cold face. He felt so cold but it was not a coldness of the body. It was a coldness that came after seeing a man butchered in front of him and because of him. 

“What did you do to him!?” Eva asked angrily as her hands skirted around Isak’s face, trying to find a phantom wound. Even did not respond, his full attention focused on Isak who could only stare back at him blankly.

Only when Eva tried to pull Isak from Even’s arms, and into her own, did Isak react with a weak cry. Even immediately hoisted him up and closer, hushing him with words that Isak could not understand.

“The blood is not his, that is all you need to know,” Even said gruffly. When Eva stayed rooted where she stood like a tree, Even sharply added, “You would do well to remember the promise I made to you about Nikolai. Now move, and make yourself scarce unless I call for you.”

 Isak numbly wondered what promise Even had made, because it made stubborn Eva begrudgingly move out of the way, even as her eyes lingered longingly on Isak.

Even’s long legs moved swiftly, until Isak realized he was carrying him to the washing room. 

“I am going to get you clean, _hjartað mitt_ , do not worry,” Even whispered into Isak’s hair, before placing him on his feet next to the abandoned washing basin. Isak did not respond, his heart still numb. Even did not stop talking, his tongue a mix of common tongue and an older rougher language he could not understand. He wondered who these assurances were really for. Even or himself?

Heat still radiated off the bath water; Eva had clearly just taken her customary evening bath.

Even’s large hands begun to quickly make work of his clothing, his fingers pulling apart the soft fold of Isak’s belt, before reaching under his tunic to pull down the band of his breeches. His fingers were familiar and safe, but all Isak could remember right now was _Elias_ and _blood_.

“You need to take it off to clean your body,” Even said gently, his hands rubbing soothing gentle circles into his back. “It is alright, Lille Sol. I won’t look, you just need to get clean and I don’t think you can do that alone right now.”

Even calling him that familiar name made Isak acquiesce and allow Even to undress him. Like he promised, his eyes dutifully stayed on Isak’s face even when Isak’s body was fully exposed to him. Even helped him climb into the bath, before kneeling next to him with a rag, dipping it in the bath water, and beginning to wash his face.

It was the sight of his tunic, beautiful and now blood stained, that made Isak jolt back to life like he was possessed. He gasped, his sobs coming out in bursts as his mind caught up with his body and he remembered what he had seen and worse, what he had caused. Elias was dead because of him. Even had split his hands from his body and he had bled out, all over Isak.

It was fitting. His blood was on Isak’s hands.

“Calm, Lille Sol. I am right here. You are safe,” Even soothed, wiping his wet cheeks, and then kissing them as he forced out apologies through tears. Although Isak was sure the rest of his body needed scrubbing more than his face, Even insistently wiped at Isak’s face, catching all the tears until Isak stilled again, limp.

Even washed him tenderly, before reaching into the water and picking Isak up from under his knees. He dried Isak with a loose ring of fabric before carrying him to Even’s room where he was placed on the bed, like a freshly bathed child.

Even pulled one of his own plain tunics over Isak’s head. It was white and ugly compared to the blue tunic but it was warm and...efficient. Efficient was exactly what Isak needed. 

For the first time in weeks, Isak slept in Even’s bed, his head hidden in the warm hollow of his neck. Even smelt earthy; like pine and warm soil. But underlying it all, was the crisp smell of fresh blood that seemed to permeate everything.

Isak shuddered and clung to Even just as the smell of blood now clung to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Attempted rape, Blood, Violence, Dismemberment, Mutilation, Discussion of Religion (mostly Christianity)
> 
> Hjartað Mitt - 'My Heart', in Old Norse.


	15. Beneath Your Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar face visits Isak and Eva at the homestead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely and positive comments following our return from hiatus. They were so encouraging that this chapter is being brought to you earlier than expected. ;-) Apologies for not being as up to date with answering comments recently, we'll always do it when we have the time but please be assured we read each and every one and absolutely love receiving your thoughts and insights into the fic. <333
> 
> Warnings for the chapter can be found at the end of the page. These contain spoilers.

**Chapter 14 - Beneath Your Bed**

_There is room beneath your bed for me_

_There is room beneath your bed just for me_

_I will leave this town just to sleep underneath your bed_

_Just to sleep underneath your bed_

_Just to stay in the corner of your heart_

[ **Corner Of Your Heart, Ingrid Michaelson** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wBU_GgE3xc)

 

**Isak**

 

Isak’s skin was red, which seemed appropriate, but it was not from blood. He scrubbed at it, and the fumes from the too-hot bathwater melted into his sensitive skin until it took on an angry scarlet hue. He gritted his teeth and scrubbed harder at his sensitive stomach and hips, the places where Elias had grabbed him hardest. He did not just feel Elias’s hands but the hands of Nikolai and all the others before him. They were touches that he could not wash from his skin, while the one man whose touch he _did_ desire, refused to bestow it upon him.

Driven by revulsion with himself, he brought his hands up to his sopping wet hair and dragged the soap along his scalp until he whimpered in pain.

He kept going. He understood now why Eva took such comfort in bathing.

From the next room he heard the door slam as Even returned from tending the horse, and moments later his deep voice filled the silence. He spoke quietly and yet somehow it was powerful enough to reverberate through the walls.

“Where is Isak?”

Eva must have said something in response, answered truthfully, because Even said, “Again?!”, his voice angrier now. Isak squeezed his eyes shut as he heard loud footsteps approaching the washing room, stopping when they reached the door frame.

“I have spoken to you about this, Isak.”

Isak remained silent. The bath water dripped from his hair, and he brought arm up to swipe at his eyes, knowing Even would be able to tell the difference between the hot water and his fresh tears.

He heard a sigh, a de-escalation of the anger, into something resembling regret, and then Even knelt down beside him, his blue eyes travelling with worry over Isak’s face.

“I understand you want to be clean, but you are _hurting_ yourself.” He referred to Isak’s skin, scrubbed raw and starting to blister. “You need to find another way to…”

 _To cope with what happened_ , Isak finished in his head. _But I cannot do that, because the thing I need most, the thing that will help me to cope, is to feel you inside of me, to know that I am not ruined for you._

It was not going to happen, though. Even allowed him into his bed, he planted a soft kiss to his hair each night, but his body stayed rigid, the space between them but a hand length, and yet it felt like a vast ocean.

“I cannot do this, Isak. I cannot watch you inflict pain on yourself. Eva is worried as well. We-”

“You _know_ what I need,” Isak said quietly, barely louder than a soft breath, but Even fell silent immediately at the sound of it. Isak lifted his head and fixed him with his most determined gaze. “You are denying me the one thing I need.” 

They stared at each other in silent struggle and for the first time, Even was the one to flinch away from it. “I cannot, Isak. You must put it from your mind.”

Frustration rumbled in Isak’s throat and he turned his head from Even, the tears falling anew. This time he did not try to hide them. He let out a small, choked sob and felt his body tremble, hating every single thought and frustration that appeared within him.

He was never going to be good enough. He was never going to be desirable enough or experienced enough. He was just a thrall. And Even would not sacrifice his pride or his reputation to be with him.

“Isak.”

“Please, just let me finish,” Isak said, trying to calm his trembling voice. “I will be out soon.”

Even’s eyes swept over his face one more time and then he gave a small nod and stood up. “No more scrubbing, Isak. I forbid it.”

 _Who are you to forbid me_? Isak thought petulantly. But he knew the answer already: Even was his master, and Isak was his thrall. He had every right to forbid him. Just as he had every right to deny him.

 

* * *

 

Isak languished in solitude that night, trying to put his fractured mind back together. He did not wish to be pitiful or broken, he wished to be like Eva. Strong, resilient, still hungry for a fight despite all that had happened to her.

He crawled into Even’s bed in the late hours and for a moment debated within himself before nestling his head into the crook of his master’s neck, breathing in the musk of sleep against his breath.

He fell into his own slumber, comforted by Even’s touch, and the way he did not try to pull away.

 

* * *

 

The next day they began to stir from sleep at the same time. Isak looked to see Even rubbing his eyes in confusion, used to waking up to find Isak in his bed next to him but unused to finding their bodies pressed together. Isak felt the larger body next to him become tense and he braced himself, rapidly throwing off the last strains of sleep.

“I must...” Even began, his voice thick with sleep, “...it is time for me to get ready for the day, Isak.”

Isak looked at him, unblinking, and he saw Even falter. Even could not move without physically moving Isak’s body away from him, and he seemed reluctant to touch him with his hands.

Isak took full advantage of this reluctance, settling himself with determination against the lean muscles of Even’s torso.

“Isak…”

“I decided last night, I would no longer be a… a child about what happened. At Jolablot. I want to be stronger, Even.”

“I am pleased to hear that, but -”

“If I am stronger, will you want me again?”

Even looked at him with fierce determination. “I want you every single day, Lille Sol. From the moment I wake to the moment I rest my head on this bed and let sleep take me. During sleep, I crave you, I ache for you.”

The words made Isak’s head spin with light-headed joy. It was everything he had hoped to hear. Until Even continued, “But I _cannot_ have you. I will hurt you, Isak. I will rip that sweetness from your body and I will not even know I am doing it. I am not willing to risk it. No matter how much you… you challenge me.”

And there it was again: the grim spectre of Even’s mother and father, slain by his own hand.

That was, if the rune-laden door and not Isak’s own instincts were to be believed.

Isak had decided, though. His instincts were stronger than the knowledge he had at hand. They were stronger than the way Even spoke about himself and the darkness inside of him. Isak had seen that darkness now, had seen the way he had cut through Elias’s hands like slabs of pig meat, and yet he still did not believe Even capable of killing the mother he spoke of so fondly and gently.

He did not believe Even was capable of killing him, either. He did not even believe he was capable of hurting him. And so he pushed it away, every dark hint of Even’s past, and he focused on the challenge, because if he did not then there was no life for Isak at all.

He ran his hand gently over Even’s chest, kitted out in thin white cotton, and tried to still himself from trembling.

“I could… I could challenge you further still,” he warned Even, trying to sound as confident as the words implied. “I could make it difficult for you.”

And then he took a breath and pushed Even down onto the bed, before attempting to straddle his chest.

But Even easily grabbed his arms and rolled until he was on top of Isak. For a moment, Isak’s breath hitched and he found himself wantonly spreading his legs, pleading silently for Even to put one large hand in between them as the other held him in place.

Instead, Even released the grip on his arms and moved away with an angry expression on his face.

“Do _not_ test me, Isak. Otherwise I will find use for that rope I tether the horse with.”

He stood up from the bed, leaving Isak flat on his back and panting in humiliation.

“Skidehoved,” Isak said under his breath. Even looked at him in suspicion and Isak said, “That’s the horse’s name, remember?”

Even shook his head in bemusement. “I must prepare to leave the house. Rest here awhile, if you are tired. Or go back to your own bed. Whichever you wish.”

 

* * *

 

When he heard the door slam shut at the front of the homestead, Isak finally forced himself away from the warmth of Even’s bed and put on his clothes for the day before drifting out to the main annex of the house. Eva was there as usual, conducting her daily sweep of the floor, and Isak sat down at the table with a heavy heart.

“What has he done now? Or what have you done? I cannot keep track of your moods.”

“Nothing. He has done nothing.”

Eva must have heard the hollowness of his expression because she looked over to him, the broom stilling against the floor, and then she rested it against the wall.

“Isak-”

“I do not need your harsh words today, Eva.”

“You cannot be angry with Even for defending you. These men are brutal, it is their way of life to protect what is theirs and to warn others not to make the same mistake.”

“I am _not_ angry with him for defending me, Eva! He could cut off a hundred hands for all I care. At least his blood runs hot when he is killing.”

He knew his words were spoken in truth. The blood… the dismemberment of Elias, had been terrible to witness but more than that, Even’s passion had been terrifying in its intensity. To witness such a strong display of feeling and then to have Even retreat back into coldness was...debilitating. Yes, he felt disgusted when he thought about Elias, but it was not his blood on Isak’s face which prolonged that disgust, more the phantom touch of Elias on his waist, and the lack of Even’s touch in order to replace it.

“I do not understand, then. What do you want from Even, if you are not angry or afraid of him?”

“I want…” Isak trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt small under her harsh gaze. “I want him to take me to bed.”

“Then you are a fool,” she said bitterly. “To sulk over this, like some petulant child? He is kind and gentle to you. He looks at you as though you are the sun. He even _calls_ you his sun. If he doesn’t touch you, if he doesn’t bend you over, it’s just because he is trying to protect you. Stop being ungrateful.”

Isak felt his face grow hot at her accusatory words, and before he could stop himself he snapped back, “Just because you see yourself as ruined for men, that does not mean we all are!”

He regretted the ugly words as soon as they were out of his mouth but he could not find it in himself to apologise. She gave him a small, painful smile and said, “Regardless of how I see myself, at least men do not see _me_ as a pretty little pet that cannot fend for itself.”

She picked up her broom and began to sweep the floor again with renewed ferocity, and Isak felt the sting of humiliation at her words. He knew they were deserved.

He tried to help her with the chores, deliberately making a mess of them so that she would yell at him to stop, for at least that would mean there was some contact between them. But she ignored him completely, and they remained that way for some time, until there was a knock at the door.

Isak’s head whipped around, his fears returning. Jolablot was but three moons ago and today had been the first that Even had left the homestead. He looked over to Eva who was turning a rune-engraved dagger in her hands before concealing it in her skirt and he realised Even must have given it to her before setting out for the day. He only had a moment to be offended that Even had not trusted him with a weapon to defend himself, before Eva was opening the door.

She pushed it open cautiously, before seeing the visitor and opening it fully after taking several steps back. Craning his head, Isak saw the handsome face of Christoffer Schistad on the other side.

His face was pulled into an awkwardly apologetic expression and he smiled slightly before taking Eva’s steps back as an invitation to cross the threshold. His eyes first looked to Eva, and then to Isak for longer, and he smiled more genuinely.

“What are you doing here?” Eva said, her tone blunt, and Christoffer gave a small chuckle.

“Thralls are usually a lot more accommodating to me.”

“I asked you a question,” Eva said, with somehow even less affection, and Isak looked at her with wide eyes. Christoffer seemed to be one of the gentler of the North men, but even so, he was still a free man, and his power over them was absolute.

“Would you… would you like some ale, perhaps?” Isak asked, trying to bring the attention away from Eva. Not that Christoffer seemed to be too upset by her demanding tone. He was taking in the homestead with curious eyes, as though he had never been here before. Perhaps he hadn’t. Even had not invited one single person over since Isak had been here; he did not seem to enjoy the company of people in the village.

“Thank you,” Christoffer said, “But I am not going to stay long.” He came over to Isak, who was knelt on the floor attempting to pick up the pieces of a bowl he’d deliberately dropped there when he was trying to get Eva’s attention. “Beautiful _and_ hardworking? I can see why Even values you so highly.”

Isak felt a smile curl his mouth up despite himself, and he saw Eva roll her eyes over Christoffer’s shoulder before coughing loudly. Their heads snapped up and over to her and she stood with her hands on her hips.

“He _does_ value him highly, and I’m sure you are aware of what he did to the last man that tried to put his hands on him.”

“I am,” Christoffer replied, with a little less assurance to his voice. “But that is why I am here. I wished to check if Isak was unharmed. I was speaking with the holy man, Jonas, and he was concerned. He blamed himself for what happened.”

“You were not there?” Eva asked.

“He left early,” Isak said quietly. Christoffer looked at him in surprise, as though he did not think Isak would have remembered, and then replied, “It seemed for the best.”

Isak finally rose to his feet, clutching the pieces of the bowl in his hand.

“I am fine, anyway,” he said with more resolve than he felt. “Thank you for asking.”

“I am glad to see you unharmed. I believe the other North men will be more… reserved with you, now. Even did the right thing, they are terrified of him. More than they already were.” He looked at Eva who was hovering nearby with a guarded expression on her face. “That was all I wanted to say, in any case.”

“You can go, then,” she told him.

“And are you going to use that knife when I pass by you?” he asked playfully, and she flushed, adjusting her skirt somewhat.

“I saw one in your own pocket. I assumed you were not just pleased to see me.”

“This?” Christoffer drew something from his breeches and Isak felt his mouth run dry, still nervous to be in the presence of a stranger whose intention was unclear. But when he saw what it was he let out a small laugh, as did Eva, and she asked the question before he could.

“A comb?”

“A very _valuable_ jade comb, for your information. I was not blessed with fighting prowess but I believe I make up for it in other regards.” He looked at Eva with a challenging expression on his face. “We cannot all be blessed with beauty _and_ strength.”

Isak backed away slightly, sensing the conversation had taken a turn. Christoffer’s tone was flirtatious and Eva seemed as though she did not mind. He saw her regard the North man with an appraising expression before she gestured to Isak.

With a coquettish expression on her face and auburn wisps that were now long enough to curl around the nape of her neck, she almost looked like her old self again.

“Your pretty words were reserved for him a few moments ago.”

“My pretty words are reserved for anybody with an attractive face who wishes to hear them.”

“Maybe I do not wish for you to speak at all,” Eva told him sharply. Christoffer gave a small, chastised smile and then Eva turned to walk from the room. When she saw Christoffer staring in confusion she asked him, “Well, are you coming?”

Only it did not sound so much of a question as a demand.

Isak’s mouth dropped open, and he looked at Eva with alarm, but she was already too far away from him to notice. Christoffer gave Isak one last amused glance before heading after her as they disappeared into the bedroom.

He had never considered himself innocent; he understood about courtships and sexual trysts, even if the latter was largely frowned upon in his village in Jutland. He had never been with anyone himself but he knew Eva had lost her maidenhead a few months before the North men had come to pillage the village.

Since then she had only known Nikolai, and the ease in which she gave herself over to Christoffer shocked him to the core. But… had she given herself to Christoffer, or had she demanded Christoffer give himself to her?

Isak did not understand it either way.

He did not know what to physically do with his own body. He stood in rigid silence for a while, then paced to the other side of the room and then paced back. He heard laughter from both of them in the next room over, and he sat at the table and stared at his hands, wondering what Even would do if he came back.

But they were doing nothing wrong. Unless Eva fell pregnant, there was no real consequence to these actions. Eva had already been taken, and she had no marriage to save herself for. In this way she was more free than the so called free women of the village.

Curiosity bloomed red on Isak’s face and he found himself wondering what Christoffer would look like in a state of undress, how his slim muscles would feel against soft skin. Other than Even, there was no man in the village that Isak found attractive, but he knew there was a difference between attraction and recognition of a man’s handsomeness.

While he did not yearn for Christoffer, he was not blind.

As if pulled forward on a leash, Isak found himself rising and walking silently towards the bedroom that he and Eva shared, that she and Christoffer had disappeared into. He curled his hands around the doorframe and watched from an angle, not wanting to face them bodily.

They did not notice him watching, however, and he leaned inwards with rapt fascination, taking in every muscle of Christoffer’s lean back, the curve of his ass as he topped Eva with enthusiasm. When he pulled back, Isak took in his cock, thick and leaking and undeniably beautiful.

While he had felt the phantom weight of Even’s cock between his thighs, the only one he had ever seen was his own, and the cock of Julian Dahl who would often touch himself while watching Isak, Eva, and Vilde playing in the fields outside their old village. At least until Eva had caught him and beat him senseless.

Eva’s legs were spread open and Christoffer’s hands were in between them. Isak did not look at her; he did not want to see his best friend’s most intimate parts, he did not even wish to see her face. He knew this was wrong, that she would be disgusted if she realised he was watching.

But he wanted to know what it was like. He wanted to know why it was so easy for some people, and yet so unreachable for him, to be able to enjoy sex in this way.

For a time, Christoffer travelled downwards, and ran his tongue between Eva’s shapely thighs. He moaned at her taste, as though it was the sweetest in the world, yet true to her request he never once said a word. His enthusiasm for her was clear, and she rewarded him with small moans of her own.

All at once it struck Isak that he should not be watching this, and he made to leave. But as he pushed himself away from the doorframe, from the corner of one eye he saw Christoffer turn towards him with a strange expression on his face, and Isak realised with certainty he had been aware of him standing there for some time.

He looked Isak straight in the eye as he thrust into Eva, who continued to moan underneath him, her nails drawing half moons of pressure into his shoulders. Isak gasped in silence, one hand at his mouth, and Christoffer held one finger up to his lips to encourage his silence as Eva closed her eyes beneath him.

With each thrust he kept his eyes on Isak, and Isak felt powerless to move. He wondered what it would be like, to be underneath him, to feel him inside, to know that there was no distance at all between them.

Then again, with the way Christoffer stared at him now, he had a fairly good idea.

And with that realisation, that this was an intimate moment, an _inappropriate_ intimate moment, he pulled away determinedly and walked back to the table where he waited impatiently for their tryst to end.

A series of sharp gasps and soft grunts filled the homestead and while Isak was not watching anymore, he could picture it clearly in his mind and it made him flush with embarrassment and stir with something more intimate. It was far too long until the noise trilled off and all that was left, was empty silence.

Christoffer came out a few moments later, his clothes rumpled and his long hair a mess. When he noticed Isak, sitting curled up on the floor, he offered him a roguish grin.

“Eva is… collecting herself.”

“You should go,” Isak said, trying to imitate Eva’s blunt tone. “Even will be back soon.”

Christoffer nodded, and stepped forward, towards the door. Isak could not stop himself from flinching away from this man who had just... _lain_ with his friend and carried all the markers off it.

Christoffer paused and Isak thought that maybe he would bring up the strange act of voyeurism from before, but instead he said, “You know, you do not need to be afraid of me.”

Isak was not. Christoffer was the only North man, besides Magnus, that he did not fear, but Christoffer continued, “I promise not to get handsy with you.”

He grinned after he said it and it took Isak a moment to realise the play of words before he was laughing, shocked mirth bubbling in his throat.

“By the Gods…” Isak giggled, “That was awful.”

Christoffer chuckled and said, “Yes, but you still laughed.”

The both laughed like a couple of children before Christoffer stilled and asked, “You do realise why I left early?”

Isak blinked at him before remembering what he was referring to.

“Oh. Yes. I understand you wished to protect yourself.”

Christoffer sighed. “Yes, and no. I went to warn Even. I knew I would not be able to stop them, that they would turn on me as they did the other holy man, Jonas. Only The Berserker could have silenced a crowd in that way.”

Isak looked up at the older man in surprise. “Even did not tell me it was you who warned him.”

Christoffer shrugged. “It does not matter. At least you are safe.”

“Is Jonas… did he flee the village? Is he safe?” He felt scared to ask. Jonas had been so kind to him. He did not wish to think of him meeting the same fate as Elias.

“No, he did not flee. He is staying at the tavern. He believes that _there is work to do here_ , whatever that means. I admire his tenacity but he has already angered several of the North men so only the Gods know what will happen if he continues his quest to convert the village.”

He flashed Isak a small smile, and then reached into his pocket to pull out the jade comb. He ran it through his hair and it seemed to Isak to be almost a nervous gesture. “Perhaps… perhaps I can come here again? To check if you are okay? Would you like that?”

Isak felt that he was asking one question and implying another, though he could not quite work out what it was. In response, he gave a small, tight smile and said, “You are a North man. You may do whatever you wish.”

It was only after Christoffer had gone that Isak thought back to the way Christoffer had put his comb back into his pocket, and how his hand had trembled as he had asked Isak if he could see him again.

 

* * *

 

“Are you still angry with me?” Isak asked Eva later that night. They lay side by side in bed.  Tonight, Isak had realised, he no longer wished to torture himself with Even’s lack of physical closeness any longer. “For saying such a terrible thing? I am sorry.”

“I am not angry. You were right, and I needed to hear it.”

“Is that why you-”

“Yes. I mean....” Eva sighed. “Christoffer is… he is gentle. Kinder than most. And while he is a North man, and not to be trusted...he is uncomplicated, albeit a bit childish. I just needed to feel another person's body against me, and know that I could stop it at any time.” She gave a small laugh. “Noora says he has bedded half the thralls in the village, and even many of the wives. Do you know why?”

“No. Well. I suppose he is handsome.”

“It is not his looks. I mean, they help, of course. But it is more because he is not intimidating. He knows how to make women feel comfortable. And he does not ask for more than we’re willing to give him.”

“Was he… you know… did he feel nice?”

Another small laugh. “Yes. Yes, he was clearly very experienced. He knew exactly what he was doing. And I was able to to forget myself, for a while. I was able to forget my status and my hair and the things Nikolai did to me, and even this Gods forsaken place I find myself caged in. I was able to forget it all.”

Isak felt himself warm through at the sound of her laughter, and the clear contentment in her voice. He thought back to Christoffer’s words, and he wondered how easy it might be to feel as Eva did now: content, fulfilled in some way, knowing that one man desired him even if the one he wanted most did not even care to look at him anymore.

He stayed awake for a long time, listening to Eva’s light breathing beside him, his hand stroking down his bare arm where his skin was still sore from his scrubbing. And as his fingertips grazed the surface, his body was almost able to imagine what it would feel like to have another man caressing him softly in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Implied emotional trauma, references to past rape/non consensual touching, references to mutilation, self injurious behavior (use of heat/excessive scrubbing of skin), consensual sex, dub con voyeurism.


	16. I Don't Need You Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak invites a familiar face to the homestead. Things take a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back from our vacation guys! We're sorry for the long wait but updates will become weekly as usual from this point on. Thank you for all your encouraging comments while we were away, we hope this chapter lives up to expectation!
> 
> Trigger warnings are in the end note as usual. Mild spoilers.

**Chapter 15 - I Don’t Need You Anymore**  

_Then I remember you're a cold heart killer_

_Make me crazy, yeah, you're smooth as liquor_

_So damn dangerous, I got too close_

_Oh, I should've known better_

_I'm telling myself, I'm telling myself_

_I don't need you anymore_

_I'm telling myself, keep telling myself_

_I don't need you anymore_

[Cold Heart Killer, Lia Marie Johnson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hb7U5Fpw23o)

 

**Isak**

The phantom touches of being touched by a man, _any_ man, did not leave Isak for many days.

He mostly kept to Eva’s bed, curling into her warm curves and longing for someone bigger and _something_ firmer. Eva’s arms could barely wrap around the pale line of his waist. Even though she tried to comfort him with small touches, he selfishly longed for someone who could wrap him up and pin him down. Eva’s softness was comforting, it reminded him of sleeping against his mother as a child, and of the bright summers when Vilde, Eva and he would sleep in the fields outside their village, intertwined like wild things.

But he wasn’t a child anymore, and the one person he wanted to touch him could not even bear to look at him.

It was only that knowledge that kept him away from Even’s room. Otherwise he would have gladly crawled on his knees for him and begged, _Please take me._ To have Even turn him away for what felt like the thousandth time would be too much to bear. Even Isak had his limits.

Some nights he skirted outside Even’s room, resting his warm head against the cold wood and imagined pushing inside and lying with him. He knew Even would not deny him a place to rest his head, just everything else. And with that in mind he would retreat back to his room to avoid the shame of rejection once again.

He did not think anyone in the homestead had noticed his morose mood. The only reason Even acknowledged him nowadays was to tell him to stop taking his burning bathes. Isak’s fondness for them had increased when he realized they were the one sure way to get Even’s attention, but he had abruptly stopped after Even had startled him by yelling at him for hurting himself. If Isak had been in a right frame of mind he would have yelled back like he usually did but with his heart delicate from Even’s absence, he had not been able to stop himself from bursting into tears.

Even had faltered, his face dropping into something resembling horror, before Eva had come into the bathing room because of all the ruckus.

She had only taken it all in; Isak crying and naked in the bath and Even standing above him in shock, for a second, before she screamed, “Leave!”

When Even did not respond she shoved him away from Isak and stood between them like a wall, “I said, leave!”

Isak knew Even did not tolerate Eva speaking to him like that, he definitely did not tolerate her _touching him_. While he was lenient with Isak, there was a clear imbalance of power between him and Eva. But despite all odds, Even merely nodded and swept out of the room like he could not get away from Isak’s crying face quick enough.

The events that followed were a blur. Eva had knelt next to his bath basin and added ice to the boiling water so it was no longer burning him before shushing him and wiping away his tears with a washcloth. It might have taken hours because the tears would not stop.

Eva held him tight that night, petting his damp hair until he fell asleep, and long after.

The homestead had been thick with tension after that night. Eva, who had just begun to trust Even, now slunk around the homestead just as silent and aloof as she had been when she arrived, always nearby when Even was with Isak. It was appreciated but stifling, especially when Even finally took it upon himself to talk to Isak for the first time in days.

“You...have not come to my bed in many moons,” Even said plainly, a peculiar expression crossing his beautiful face. _No, not beautiful_ , Isak reminded himself. He could not think of Even like that anymore when he knew it was not wanted.

“Yes,” Isak said flatly, “Is that not what you wanted? I don’t wish to bother you.”

“You do not bother me,” Even said abruptly and loud enough that Eva paused her stirring of the stew by the hearth. From the corner of his eye, Isak watched her clench her small hand around the ladle of the wooden spoon like it was a weapon. Her grip only relaxed when Even spoke again, this time with a gentler tone.

“You can always come to my bed,” Even said plainly and Isak felt his mouth dry at the sight of those blue eyes boring into his.

 _Even when he lies to me, my heart quickens_ , Isak thought bitterly.

“Thank you,” Isak said shortly, looking down at the brown thicket of his stew to avoid looking at Even’s face.

Even paused as if waiting for Isak to respond before returning to his own plate. Isak ate, at a much slower pace as he tried to ignore the oppressive silence that filled the usually loud kitchen. Even Eva stayed silent, weaving through the kitchen like a particularly cleanly ghost.

When Even got up to leave for the day, Isak stubbornly stayed in his chair, keeping his head down, and pushing stew into his mouth that had begun to taste like dirt.

 _He does not want your day’s wishes,_ Isak reminded himself. _He does not want anything from you._

Before he would have kissed Even chastely on the cheek or jaw before wishing him a good day, and the one time he remembered the most fondly, Even had kissed him passionately right in front of Eva. The memories felt more dreamlike than the real dream he had had of a man’s caresses. Still, both of them were indeed fantasies at this point.

When Even finally left, the wooden door slapping almost harshly against the trim, Isak let out a sigh of relief and abandoned his stew, pushing it away from him in disgust.

“Come now,” Eva said teasingly as she sat across from him, “My stew cannot be that bad, surely?”

Eva’s tone was light but to Isak every word felt like a prod at his fragile countenance so he quickly said, “No, no. It is delicious as always, I just don’t have much of an appetite.”

He expected Eva to laugh at him and tell him that he needed all the meat he could get, as skinny as he was, but she looked oddly contemplative. He watched with trepidation as Eva circled around the table to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands into hers.

“Isak,” She started seriously, “Are you well?”

“Well?” Isak repeated slowly, confused by the seriousness of her expression, “I am...healthy. If that’s what you are asking.”

“No Isak, that is not what I am asking,” She rolled her eyes with more exasperation now, the mask of concern giving way to annoyance. It quickly faded as her eyes became limpid and she stroked his hand. “I mean to ask, are you upset? With Even or with me?”

Isak looked down at their joint hands as Eva ran her thumbs down the back of his hand soothingly. Despite her best efforts his chest still felt like it was being pressed down upon by a heavy stones.

“I saw you outside his room the other night.”

Isak felt his face flush with humiliation as he imagined what she had seen. Him, pressed to the door in his night clothes, as close as he could get to Even because that is all he could possibly ask for. The cold rejection of a closed door.

“You know why I’m upset Eva, do you really need me to say it out loud? Will that give you some satisfaction?” he asked angrily, his words spilling out on top of each other.

“No!” Eva said standing up now, so she was looking down at him now, making him feel impossibly small. “Do you think it makes me happy to see you like this?” She let out a frustrated sigh. ”I just want you to talk to me.”

Isak’s feelings felt like they could burst out of him but he could not find the words. The feeling in his chest felt too raw and vulnerable, like an open wound.

“Vilde often got like this so I know what it looks like,” Eva said her tone wistful. Isak remembered it well. Vilde was soft hearted and she would fall for any decent looking boy that spared her a kind word. The boys that were willing to throw pretty words at Vilde in exchange for _other things_ were plentiful and they always left her alone and heartbroken once they had gotten what they wanted. Isak and Eva had been the only ones left to nurse Vilde back to happiness when she refused to eat and sleep for days at a time.

“But you are not Vilde,” Eva said bluntly, “I know Even is not some passing fancy for you and his absence is causing you great pain. I hate it.”

Isak felt a rush for affection at the honesty in her words. Eva was always more passionate about other people than herself.

“I’m lonely,” Isak said quietly. He felt vulnerable admitting even that much to Eva but it was the least he could tell her. “Before you came here, it was just me and Even. He was my protector and then my friend. We were only more than that for a short time and now we’re nothing.” Isak swallowed the lump of tears in his throat as his blunt words echoed back at him. He knew Even would still protect him with his life, but it was not Even’s sword that he wanted. He wanted his trust, his companionship, and his love. A sword paled in comparison to that.

“I am with you,” Eva said in mock offense and Isak laughed.

“Yes, and I am with you. But just like you can’t give me what I want, I cannot give you what you want. We both know I’m a sorry substitute for Vilde,” Isak teased.

Eva stared down at him in surprise and Isak stared back knowingly.

“No,” she said hesitantly, “I suppose you’re not a good substitute for her. No one could be.”

Eva looked nostalgic as she stared down at Isak and remembered her own lost love, before her face lit up as if recalling something important.

“But...you could find a substitution for Even. At least to soothe your heartache. Vilde did it often enough.”

“What are you talking about?” Isak said, puzzled by her words. The men in this village were brutes, Eva said it often, usually in regards to Even.

“Are you serious, Isak?” Eva said, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she stared at Isak’s blank face.

“Eva,” Isak said in frustration, pushing out a huff that blew his blonde fringe from his face, “Who are you talking about?”

Eva looked like a hesitant doe as she cautiously stepped forward and looked around as if someone could be listening. It was an old habit of hers from her time with Nikolai and Isak was confused to see it now. There was no one in the homestead except for the two of them so  Eva finally said in an almost amusingly loud whisper, “Christoffer wants to visit the homestead. Again. He cornered me at the market and asked. I thought it was to visit me and turned him away but he asked about _you_.”

Isak remembered Christoffer’s easy laugh and the way his hand had trembled as he had held the jade comb to his hair.

He did not want to visit the homestead to visit Eva. He wanted to _see Isak._

Although his heart did not ache for anyone but Even, his body flushed at the feeling of being wanted so clearly.

He looked at Eva with surprise and said, “I thought you were against… you know. This? Me… with the other North men?

She contemplated this for a while, clearly trying to work out why she did not hold any fear of Isak meeting with Christoffer. “He helped me, Isak. I truly believe that. I know that… that you have suffered. That it is not just Even, his lack of touch. That you have not had good experiences with the other men here. I think he will help you to be less lonely, even temporarily, and that can only be a good thing.”

Despite all good sense weighing his gut down like the meal he had barely eaten, the desire to feel someone touch him weighed on his heart more, so he took in Eva’s words carefully. If nothing else, he could simply talk to Christoffer, bask in the strange light of desire that left him feeling lighter and more powerful. He remembered Eva’s previous words to him, after they had shared a bed together the night following her tryst with Christoffer. She had said that Christoffer did not force anything further than his conquests wished for. It seemed to Isak to be exactly what he needed in this moment.

So Isak smiled and said, “Well, then, invite him over.”

 

* * *

 

Eva returned back to the market two moons after their conversation and delivered the message to Christoffer. He could visit the homestead but only during the very short daylight hours when Even was out.

The day Christoffer was planning to come over; Isak cleaned more than he ever had since coming to the homestead.

Eva had been entirely too amused by it, thinking he had taken up cleaning to make the house nice for _Christoffer,_ but Isak cleaned because he did not know what else to do with his hands.

He felt as though Even would immediately know what he was planning if he stayed still and lazed around the homestead as usual. Even would see the tightening of his body, the flashing of his eyes as he contemplated the possibilities and outcomes of his encounter. So to distract himself and hide his plans, he cleaned.

It was nearly midday before the North man arrived, knocking on the door loudly and startling Isak who had been anticipating his arrival for many hours.

“Calm down,” Eva said, laughing at him openly, “He’s not that handsome.”

Isak blushed at her words though he knew it wasn’t because of that. He was not nervous because his heart ached for Christoffer, but because he had never been as open as Eva or even Vilde. He had never explicitly invited a man to visit him for a... _tryst_. Because that’s what this was. Sneaking Christoffer into the house, while Even was out earning his living, was an affair. He felt guilty for a moment before he realized how ridiculous the feeling was. He was not Even’s wife or consort. He was just his thrall; that was all. There was no betrayal here, he reassured himself, even as his stomach churned with discomfort.

“Hello,” Eva said cheerily, letting Christoffer into the homestead easily, unlike the last time.

 _Too cheerily,_ Isak thought dryly. Eva was far too amused by this, he decided.

“Hello,” Christoffer replied back but his eyes were searching, staring past Eva and looking for Isak. When he saw him, his usual coquettish grin softened into something sweeter.

 _I do not deserve it_ , Isak thought pathetically. Christoffer looked upon him with a kind eye but all he could feel in response was overwhelming guilt.

“Hello,” Isak said in a small voice stepping forward so Christoffer could see him more clearly.

He was wrapped in one of Even’s scarves for warmth and it felt like a mark, not that Christoffer would know that.

“I am going to go scrub the bathing basin,” Eva said lightly, patting Isak’s shoulder as she walked past him to make her way down the hall, leaving them alone.

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment before Christoffer said, “When I asked if I could visit, I never dreamed that you would say yes.”

Isak never dreamed that he would say yes either but he shrugged and said, “Why does it matter to you that I said yes? I’m just a thrall. You could take me right now and no one would care.”

Isak quickly blushed at his bold words, shocked at himself, but Christoffer did not let him dwell on them long because he chuckled and said, “No one? If I did something you did not ask for we both know that _The Berserker_ would have my head.” Isak’s heart jumped at the mention of Even and his protectiveness. While it was true, it was odd to hear it spoken back to him. “Or I suppose he would have my hands instead. For touching you,” Christoffer added.

Isak rolled his eyes, “That was only funny the first time, you know. Now I’m just worried that you’re so amused at the thought of being dismembered.”

He was only speaking the truth but Christoffer laughed at again and said, “You have a quick tongue you know, quicker than any thrall I’ve ever met.”

 _Yes,_ Isak thought in annoyance, _Even a thrall can have a sense of humour._

“Thank you,” Isak said, even though he was not.

“You can show me your thanks in other ways,” Christoffer said flirtatiously, stepping forward until he was toe to toe with Isak. He was only a hair’s breadth taller than Isak, not tall like Even, who often had to crane down to look Isak in the eyes. It was disconcerting.

“I could,” Isak said lightly, trying to ignore the way his heart raced with trepidation as he wrapped one of his arms around Christoffer’s neck, letting his fingers trace the hard line of his jaw and his neck, “I could show you now?”

The words were clumsy and foreign in his mouth but Christoffer clearly seemed affected by them, if the weight against Isak’s hip was any indication. He nodded and tilted his head slightly to press his lips to Isak’s.

They felt odd. Not thin but not full and soft like Even’s. Still he kissed back chastely before pulling away and tugging on Christoffer’s hand, pulling him behind him and leading him to his room.

The room was cleaner than it had been when he arrived as a result of his panicked cleaning, the bed freshly made and laid. It felt like a dream. He had dreamt of a man caressing him in this very bed but now that one was actually here he did not know what to do with himself. He sat on the corner of the bed delicately but only for a moment before Christoffer was straddling him.

He thought it would be nice to be pinned like this, by someone strong, but it just felt uncomfortable. All he could focus on was the hard jab of Christoffer’s prick against his soft thigh and the heavy weight on his hips. For the first time in weeks he actually longed for Eva’s womanly softness instead.

“You are beautiful, you know,”

“Am I?” Isak curiously. He had heard it often enough from the brutes of the village, from Eva, Vilde, and Even of course. But it was hard to understand what beautiful was when all it seemed to mean for him was constant suffering, in one form or another.

“Yes,” Christoffer said incredulously as if he could not believe Isak’s own naivety, “I have slept with countless women and men from many different lands and you are by far the most memorable beauty I have ever come across. I’d remember your face at the end of the world.”

Isak wanted to tell him that his words made no sense because the world was infinite but Christoffer did not give him the chance to speak before he was wetly pressing his lips to Isak’s and hoisting one of his legs up around his waist.

Isak squeaked in surprise at the feeling of his legs being opened but tried to relax into the kiss. It was what he wanted, a man in his bed, caressing him. But he felt lonelier pinned to the bed under Christoffer than he did when he was alone in his bed.

“Christoffer,” Isak whispered throatily, moaning as he sucked a kiss into his neck. “Christoffer, get off of me,” Isak said louder now, shoving him by the shoulder. Christoffer did not seem to hear him as he begun to trail kisses down lower, making Isak curl away from him. Fear had just begun to rise on his throat like warm bile when there was a loud bang and the unmistakable sound of voices. A deep voice in particular, that definitely did not belong to Eva.

Isak listened to Eva and Even talk in short quick words before familiar footsteps started down the hall.

For a short moment Isak was relieved that Even had come home to interrupt Christoffer until the shame of what he had been about to do filled him. This was not like Elias or Nikolai forcing their hands upon Isak; he had invited Christoffer into their home.

“You have to go,” Isak said quickly, shoving Christoffer off of him. He was ahead of Isak, already picking up his boots and his bearskins before trying to quietly open the door.

Both of their efforts proved fruitless when the door slammed open and Even stood there like some phantom out of a children’s tale.

He only had to look at Isak; breathless and pink cheeked, his tunic and scarf pulled to the side to reveal a flushed chest, before he withdrew his broadaxe and swung it at Christoffer.

Christoffer dodged it easily, he was as quick limbed as he was quick tongued, but his panicked eyes gave him away.

“Listen, _Berserker_ , I meant no harm. It was your little thrall that invited me here. He wanted it.” Christoffer did not lie but Isak tried to mentally impart to him that he should quiet his tongue because the intention of his words were clearly having the opposite effect on Even.

“You expect me the believe that?” Even said darkly. “I spoke to Knut, he said he saw you coming to my homestead during the day. My thrall does not leave the homestead without me knowing, so how would he have called for you?” Neither of them answered, not wanting to implicate Eva, but Even took it as confirmation.

“You know, I knew you were a fool and a womanizer but I never took you for a _rapist_.” Isak flinched at the word because while Christoffer was many things, he was not that.

But how could he say it now? Even dropped his broadaxe and stepped closer to Christoffer, clearly looming over him. The height difference between them felt like an ocean when Even reached down and wrapped one of his large hands around Christoffer’s neck and began to squeeze, and the breath slowly but surely began to be choked out of him.

Isak screamed as the reality of what Even was going to do hit him. He was going to kill Christoffer because he thought he had come into their house to take Isak against his will. He had not, and he could not let him die because of his shame.

“I invited him here, he’s not lying,” Isak said frantically as panicked tears started to bead in the corner of his eyes. “So please do not hurt him, Even. Please.”

Things stood at a standstill and Isak felt his throat retract almost as if in sympathy with Christoffer’s ordeal, ready to scream again. But Even looked into his eyes in that moment, and it was as if he could see into his entire being. He pulled his hand back...and let go of the other North man’s neck.

Christoffer fell to the ground with a gasp, coughing as his hands held his bruised throat delicately.

Eva stood in the doorway, frozen in shock.

“Get him out of my homestead,” Even said gruffly to Eva. She nodded quickly, clearly shaken by the display, and helped Christoffer stand before leading him down the hallway.

Isak sat frozen on the bed as Even stood across from him, merely staring. This had been what he had longed for, for weeks. Even’s eyes upon him indiscriminately. But not like this. Not after another man’s hands had been on him, and after Even had almost killed, _again_ , for Isak.

In shame, Isak pulled Even’s scarf tighter around his exposed and freshly bruised neck. It merely drew Even’s eye to the soft raw skin there, so he stared at the scarf accusingly, as if it had been the one that had sucked the kisses into Isak’s neck.

“Did you want it?” Even asked in his deep but accusing voice. Isak had not heard it in so long he flinched at the question.

“I wanted someone to touch me,” Isak said honestly. What was the point of lying when Even had already caught him with another man in his bed? “I just wanted to be touched,” Isak finished quietly staring at his lap.

“I did not know you were that kind of a person,” Even said his tone deceptively calm.

Isak felt his hackles rise and asked, “And what kind of person is that?”

“A person of loose morals.”

“ _Loose_?” Isak repeatedly darkly and Even faltered before his face hardened into something sterner.

Isak could feel the blood rush in his ears as he stood up and walked away from Even, towards the hearth. Even followed him, the two of them always inexplicably pulling away and towards each other.

“You won’t touch me for weeks and you have the audacity to get angry when I bring someone into my bed!?” Isak asked incredulously, his mouth curling into a smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. He shucked off the scarf that Christoffer had almost pulled from his shoulders and said, “Perhaps I should have invited Jonas back as well, you know, since I’m so _loose_ ,” before throwing it feebly at Even. Isak was as weak as a child so it fell to the ground in a sad pile at his feet.

His words were born out of rage but Even jumped at the mention of Jonas’s name.

“It is not just a matter of morals, it’s a matter of principle,” Even said in rough voice, “You are _mine_.”

Even looked down at him as he spoke and it made Isak’s head rush with blood, anger, and something he had only felt once before. When he had sat on Even’s lap and felt his hardness against his back.

Even paused his eyes, distracted by the exposed pale of Isak’s neck that was marked with pink marks from Christoffer’s lips.

“And if you bring another man into our homestead again, I’ll have to put you over my knee.”

Isak flushed at the image that conjured. Him, bare and bent over Even’s lap with Even’s large firm hands caressing the pale globes of his ass before pulling back and making pink blossom there. He should despise the thought. He should loathe it. He had never been spanked as a child but Vilde and Eva often talked about it to him with great derision. But he didn’t think he would mind it if it was Even doing it.

“Over your knee?” Isak said incredulously, trying to appear as angry as he was meant to be. “I would like to see you try.”

Even stared down at him intensely and Isak could feel his legs start to tremble. He did not have to worry about standing for long because Even lowered his head quickly and picked Isak up, big hands under the curve of his ass.

Even’s waist pressing his legs open felt good; it felt right.

 _Even is the only person who should ever be between my legs_ , Isak thought headily as Even threw him down onto the bear skin rug.

He immediately whined at Even’s absence on top of him. “Please touch me,” Isak gasped desperately, “Please, please, please Even.”

Even was instantaneously back on him, broad body covering him and pinning him to the ground.

“I’m here, _Lille Sol_ ,” Even said before he swallowed Isak’s whimpers with a kiss. Isak didn’t feel like he could breathe with Even on top of him, his mouth swallowing his every breath. It didn’t feel stifling like it had with Christoffer. Isak felt safe but more than that he felt _hot_. The heat from the hearth made them both flushed and sticky but Isak would not have let go of Even for the world.

Isak whined again when Even pulled his tunic over his head, and begun to trail gentle kisses down his neck, chest, and eventually hips, making him moan appreciatively.

When he leant up on his elbows to look down, Even loomed over him and pushed him back down. After a moment of consideration he grabbed each of Isak’s slender wrists in his big hands and put them above his head.

Isak nodded shyly and kept his hands there. The anger from before felt like it had evaporated because of the heat of Even’s body. All that was left was the desire for sweetness.

Even pulled Isak’s leggings down over the soft pale curve of his ass and down his long legs until all that was left was vulnerable pink skin that no one had touched besides Isak.

Isak blushed when Even merely stared at him and said, “Stop it,” shyly.

Even’s face softened when he looked up at Isak’s soft flushed face and he shot up to press a hard kiss to Isak’s pouty lips before saying, “Never.”

Isak felt undeniably cherished as Even peppered his neck and cheeks with kisses, almost making him giggle before trailing back down his body.

To his confusion, Even ignored the soft pink weight of his cock and instead reached under his thighs to pull them over his shoulders.

Isak blushed in embarrassment at the position and tried to close his legs but Even would not let him. “Do not be embarrassed, you’re beautiful everywhere,” Even said matter of factly before pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of Isak’s thigh.

“But it’s dirty,” Isak said in confusion.

Even looked at him blankly before he smiled in amusement and said, “You know, sometimes I forget how young you are.”

Isak did not have time to ask what that meant because Even reached between Isak’s cheeks and spread them open, so Isak’s most private place was exposed.

The next kiss was decidedly not chaste. Even kissed between Isak’s legs like he kissed Isak’s mouth; desperate and wet, his tongue making broad strokes across the soft skin like he was a man starved.

Isak squealed and tried to close his legs but Even was too strong, he kept his thighs open easily, two strong hands on his thighs as he licked into him gently but insistently.

“You taste so good, Isak,” Even groaned into his hole before fucking his tongue into him, making him open up.

Isak could feel himself start to sob at the feeling as his thighs shake. Hearing Even say his name while he had his tongue inside him made him want to curl up in embarrassment, but Even wouldn’t let him. He felt sloppy and _open_.

He let out a gasp when Even finally pulled away leaving him slick and wanting. He saw Even reach beside the hearth and fetch an old tin of seal oil, meant for Even’s swords. He watched with trepidation as Even spilled what was left of it on his calloused hands, and pressed one of his long fingers inside Isak’s body.

Isak flinched at the stretch and Even shushed him, the other hand rubbing soothing circles into his hip.

“You are fine, I am right here. I would never hurt you,” Even said calmly, and Isak knew that to be true so he forced himself to relax against the length. As Even pushed his finger into Isak, the slick noise of Even fucking into him began to make his cock harden.

Even groaned at the sight and pushed another finger in without warning, making Isak groan. Even’s fingers were so _big_. When Isak began pushing his hips back into Even’s hand, Even pulled his hand away and begun to pull his breeches down.

At the sight of Even’s cock, Isak felt himself tense. By the Gods, that was supposed to go inside him?

Even soothed him immediately, lowering his body to cover Isak’s like a shield from himself.

“We do not have to if it frightens you,” Even said frankly, pressing kisses to Isak’s neck and cheeks.

When he pulled back and looked down at Isak in concern, Isak decided that he did not want anyone but Even inside him. If he could not do this then he did not deserve Even’s love.

“I want it, I want you,” Isak panted and that was all the affirmation Even needed.

Eyes darkening, he pulled back and sat back on his haunches before pouring what was left of the oil on the angry red of his cock. It looked intimidating but when Even pressed it against his hole and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, Isak felt foolish for thinking such a thing.

Even fucked over Isak’s hole, just letting the head catch, before pulling back. He did this again and again, until Isak’s hole was slick with oil and he ached for Even to just slide his cock inside already.

“You feel so good, your body was made for this,” Even said, voice rough, as he traced the rim of Isak’s puffy hole with the head of his cock. “No,” Even corrected himself, “You were made for me.”

Isak moaned, high and long, as Even pressed just the head inside of him and he felt that full stretch, before Even pulled back. When his cock left his body, Isak sobbed in frustration his back curling in desperation.

“You were made for me too, so please,” Isak said, desperation loosening his tongue, “Take me.”

Even had claimed Isak hundreds of times in many ways but this was the first time that Isak had claimed him right back. It pushed Even over the edge and finally he gave Isak what he wanted, and kissed him.

Isak’s screams were muffled with Even’s kiss as he thrust in deep and slow, fucking inside the wet heat between Isak’s thighs to claim him. Isak could feel the hard length of Even’s cock inside him, making space inside Isak’s body because it was his. Every part of Isak belonged to Even. Isak could feel it in his very bones.  He felt himself start to sob as Even’s thrusts quickened, his balls slapping against Isak’s ass in his desperation to get as deep as he could.

“I think I’ll keep you like this forever,” Even sad breathlessly, like it was a secret between the two of them, “You’ll stay in my bed and you’ll never wear clothes because you’ll always be full of me. I’ll keep you happy every day and fuck you every night, I swear to the Gods.”

It should have sounded like madness, like Christoffer’s sweet talk from before, but it was the loveliest thing Isak had ever heard.

“Yes, yes,” Isak whimpered brokenly, his body shaking with Even’s thrusts. He felt like he was in a daze that was abruptly broken when Even thrusted sharply and hit him somewhere that made him scream. He looked to Even, ready to ask what that was but Even developed a determined look on his face and began thrusting again, but this time _faster_.

Isak did not even have to ask, Even knowing his body better than himself, when he lowered one big hand to Isak’s cock and tugged once. With Even steadily rabbiting inside his ass, Isak felt his thighs begin to shake as he cried out and came. Even groaned at the clench of Isak’s body and fucked him through it, his thrusts unrelenting.

Isak allowed his head to fall back as Even held his hips still in his hands and fucked into him, chasing his own release. It felt good to be used like this, as a vessel of Even’s pleasure. It was all Isak wanted, to make Even feel good. When Even accidentally hit that spot again, making Isak scream and shake, Even let go.

He came deep and hard, his cock buried in Isak as he shouted his release into Isak’s neck. He stayed inside, his hips making small circles as he continued to pump come into Isak’s willing body.

It felt _good_. Like being marked.

Isak could feel the heat inside him begin to leak out as Even pulled out, and he felt himself start to panic as coldness filled where there was once warmth.

“Don’t leave me,” Isak said weakly even as his body willed him to sleep, “Please don’t leave me.”

Even as his body ached with pain and soreness, he longed for Even back inside him. Because at least then he would know that Even was there with him and he would not retreat back into coldness the very next day.

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Even said fondly as he petted Isak’s hair. Isak leaned into his palm, nuzzling into it as Even pulled him to his chest. His other hand trailed down the curve of Isak’s waist, to press two long fingers against the puffy wetness of Isak’s hole. Isak’s body was sore and oversensitive but he still moaned in pleasure at the feeling of Even inside him.

“I promise I’ll never leave you,” Even said. Isak knew Even was a good liar, but with Even inside him, seeping out and now, in his very bones, he believed and allowed himself to trust before falling into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Choking (non-sexual), Attempted Murder, Possessiveness, Allusions to Domestic Discipline (Spanking), Dubious Consent


	17. Worn Out Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even wrestles a bear, but the greater struggle is concealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the end of the chapter for trigger warnings (these include spoilers.)

**Chapter 16 - Worn Out Lullaby**

_I know you like Adam knew Eve_

_Every tear you cry is a tear that I will bleed_

_Sleep baby, don't you cry_

_Daddy's got a worn out lullaby_

_And I’ll live forever dark and damned_

_To see you spend one minute_

_In wonderland_

[ Wonderland, Angie Aparo ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASwxETdRbGY)

 

**Isak**

Isak woke from the gentle pull of a lazy evening nap to the sound of screaming.

 _Eva. Eva is screaming_. His blurred mind formulated the panic in this realisation. And Even was out. He knew that much, because Even was never far from him when he returned to the homestead after a long day of training.

His eyes shot open, his hand fumbling for something, _anything_ to defend himself and Eva with. When he found the fire poker he gripped it in his hands, expecting the worst, and silently edged out to the main annex of the house.

But as he came closer he realised Eva’s screams were more recognisable as angry, unfrightened yells, her body hunched up in disgust. He moved forward, lowering the poker in confusion, and looked over to the door. Snow whipped in hard flakes across the threshold, and they signalled Even’s arrival. His body lagged under the weight of what he was carrying, his feet dragging painfully underneath him.

“What the-” Isak said out loud, and Eva looked at him with equal amounts of bemusement.

Even was dragging a bear as white as the snow, but bleeding red from its neck. Its black eyes were lifeless and unseeing. And on Even’s face was the biggest smile Isak had ever seen.

“Isak!” Even said cheerfully, and Isak and Eva watched as he staggered across the room, hoisted the bear upwards and pulled it onto the table, where it dripped blood onto the wood beneath it.

“Even..?” Isak asked warily. “What… what is this?”

“A bear. I wrestled a bear for you.” Even’s tone was cheerful and generous, and Isak felt a sudden jolt in his stomach, a current that made him feel flushed in a way he didn’t understand; he imagined Even, resplendent in combat with this huge, ferocious creature, like something from a childhood story his Mama would tell him, and his mouth fell open slightly.

Eva saw his expression and hit him upside the head in outrage.

“Why would you choose to wrestle one of these things?!” she asked Even. He looked at her in confusion.

“I told you. For Isak. The meat of the white bear is the finest in the land, far better than the scraps I normally bring home for him. And the fur is exceptional. Look, no mottle whatsoever.” He ran his large hand over the flank. “We ruined the rug the last time we fucked on it, so I thought-”

“Even!” Isak said sharply, referring to Eva who was covering her face in mortification. “Perhaps… perhaps a bit more…” he looked for the word, embarrassment emptying his head completely, and he let out a small huff. “Eva doesn’t want to hear about us ruining the rug.”

“No, I most certainly do not.” She stepped forward and looked at the bear, her nose screwed up in disgust. “Who is going to skin it and carve it up?”

“Me, of course,” Even said. He had not stopped beaming since he had entered, his face constantly searching over Isak, as if looking for something. Approval, maybe. Isak tried to avoid giving it, frightened Eva would hit him again, but curiosity won out.

“Was it a fierce battle?” he asked. His mouth turned up at the corners and he covered his mouth in a pretend cough when Eva glared at him.

“It is the first bear I have ever gone toe to toe with. It was fun,” Even said simply. “I will kill all the white bears for you if you desire it, _Lille Sol_. Though they tend to dwell further North.”

“He does _not_ desire it,” Eva snapped. “If you end up dying as a result of some foolhardy escapade involving a lumbering great bear, Isak will be killed or sold off, and all because you needed to reaffirm your… your _manhood_ to him.”

At the word _dying_ , Isak found pulled back to the present moment, heart speeding up suddenly as he took in the blood seeping through Even’s ripped wolfskins. “You’re hurt,” he said, frowning, and helped Even to shrug off the cloak. There were multiple shreds across his chest and arms, and a particularly nasty looking one at the top of his thigh. “Even, Eva is right, this was foolhardy!”

“Oh, now you say it!” Eva grumbled, but when she saw how upset Isak looked, she stilled her tongue, instead choosing to shoot Even a disgruntled glare.

“It is fine!” Even said. “These are just scratches.”

“Scratches from a white bear. Look at its claws,” Isak said, reaching out to grasp one of the limp paws. The limb was heavy and he tried not to look as though he was struggling to lift it. “It could have torn you open.”

“I would have liked to see it try!”

Isak ran his eyes over Even’s face and saw nothing but excitement there. It seemed to Isak to be in sharp contrast to the demeanour he had shrouded himself in for so many weeks. Months, even, because slowly but surely the winter was progressing, ice beginning to melt smaller bodies of water at the south end of the village.

“Please, do not attempt this again,” Isak said, lowering his voice, and Eva realised her presence was no longer required, now that Isak had seen sense enough to chastise Even. She headed back to her bedroom with a loud sigh as Isak moved closer to Even, his hands gripping the taut muscles of his forearms. “I could not stand it if you were hurt for such an insignificant thing.”

“Insignificant?” Even asked, amused. “Was this such an insignificant thing?”

“You know what I mean.” Isak went on tip toes to brush his lips against Even’s. “No, it was not insignificant. One day they will tell stories about you. The brave, handsome North man who fought a white bear with only his bare hands.”

“Well, there may have been a sword involved,” Even admitted, and Isak smiled brightly. “Anyway, what of you, _Lille Sol_? Will they not tell tales of your beauty in far off lands?”

“Is that all I am good for?” Isak felt heat pool in his stomach at the way Even looked at him, as though he was made of gold and jewels. “My _beauty_.”

“Perhaps they will tell tales of your laziness,” Even teased, and Isak made as though to pull his lips away, pretending at outrage. He squealed with laughter when Even swept him up suddenly into his arms, telling him, “You will not be going anywhere. I wish to show you exactly how I conquered the savage beast.”

Isak continued to laugh as Even carried him through to the bedroom, his hands gripping Even’s hair as he pulled him down on top of his body. He felt himself relax against the bed, aware all at once that he had been holding himself tense all day, waiting for this moment when he was finally allowed to _be_. To be close to Even, trapped between his legs, covered by his body. He arched up into his touch when Even ran a hand down over his face.

He had barely been out of bed in days. Even had taken him many times since their first, and Isak’s body was ruined in a way that felt like broken fragments pushed back together. He craved it.

“Did the bear top you?” he asked, and Even laughed from his stomach, eyes crinkling at the corner.

“It tried.”

“And you…” Isak smiled playfully, pushing Even’s arms down, directing him to settle back on the bed as he climbed on top of him, “You conquered it? You proved you were the fiercer warrior?” He leant down, hair falling against Even’s forehead. “Did it _roar_? Was it loud? Powerful?” He pressed kisses into Even’s mouth, craving the taste of him, and asked, “Did you roar back?”

“You are insolent, Isak,” Even said, his voice scratchy with lust, his eyes never leaving Isak’s face. His expression, though still light of heart, had become intense, focused, as he stared with a hunger that almost frightened Isak. “I do believe you’re aroused by the thought of me wrestling this creature.”

His hand crept down to Isak’s breeches, running a gentle finger over his hardness, and Isak gasped, widening his legs. The next thing he was aware, he had been flipped over again, Even staring down at him as he undressed Isak beneath him. “Did you miss me?” he asked, and Isak had no room left for playfulness: he nodded profusely, Even leaning down to kiss his pursed lips.

“You know I would stay here with you all day?” he asked. “Every day, Isak. I would barricade the door and I would never leave you, if I did not have to provide for you.”

Isak let out a soft moan, his body consumed with affirmation. “I know,” he said, and Even kissed his face again, and again, his eyes scanning desperately as though he needed something more. Isak tried to give it to him, his mouth widening, his tongue pushing deeper into Even’s mouth, until Even brought his head back to stare at him again.

“I _will_ tell your story to anyone who cares to listen, of a beautiful boy with hair brighter than the sun.”

“I don’t need stories,” Isak told him. “I need you.”

Even nodded, his head dipping low, tongue tracing down Isak’s bare chest. He pulled away in a moment, disrobing himself, and then settled back in between Isak’s spread legs. “You deserve all I have to give you.”

He pinned Isak’s arms above his head and continued to kiss his upper body, Isak unable to wriggle about in anticipation as Even held him in place. “Is this good for you?” Even asked, and Isak nodded, temporarily mute with longing. “I need you to say yes, Isak, if you’d like for me to continue.”

“I… I want you to hold me down,” Isak told him, finding his voice. “I want you to take me, Even.”

Even nodded, his arms pressed against the side of Isak’s face, and Isak noticed a deep cut on one of them, blood trickling down, but Even ignored it, and therefore so did Isak. Even allowed Isak’s body to curl up so Even’s mouth was able to reach his stomach, and Isak moaned as he felt the wet tongue pool into his belly button. His senses were alive, each one of them, and he became conscious of Even breathing heavily against him, his breath ragged.

“You are in pain?” Isak asked, and Even laughed, nodding his head.

“Tremendous pain. I _ache_ , Isak.”

He finally released Isak’s hands, and Isak brought them behind Even’s back, pulling him closer. Even reached across to find oil next to his bed. “I ache with the need to be inside you,” Even murmured, as Isak heard the slap of hand against cock. “I ache with the promise of how ready you are for me.”

Isak winced slightly as Even began to push the head in, attempting to regulate his breathing until he felt the large girth of Even’s cock pushing through to the comfort of Isak’s expanded hole. “You take me so well,” Even told him. “So perfect. We fit together so perfectly.”

He began to thrust, his hands coming down to Isak’s hips, running along his bare legs before flipping them over his broad shoulders. Isak whimpered with need, hands reaching down to his own cock, and Even moved them away. “I take care of you, in all ways,” he told him, before bringing his large hand to it, the firm grip wrapped around Isak’s length.

“Only if I can take care of you,” Isak whispered, and Even nodded, mouth hovering over Isak’s chest as he lapped at his nipples.

“You should not be in any doubt.”

Isak tilted his head back, allowing Even’s ministrations to push him over to climax: his hands, and his tongue, and his cock, pushing deep into Isak until every part of him felt claimed by Even. He had been deprived of this for so long, as though he had emerged from the other side of a great famine, and now he hungered for Even in every conceivable way.

“Ev… Even,” he gasped, as Even told him, “Look at me, Isak, never stop looking at me.”

Isak brought his head forward and stared down his chest at Even with half lidded eyes, gasping with how handsome Even looked as he stared into his eyes that reminded him of the sea. “Yes,” Isak whined, “Please.”

The climax built up inside of him like wood thrown onto a bonfire, and finally it was alight, Isak thrusting up into Even’s tight grip as he spilled over his hand. He whimpered, hole clenching around Even’s length, needing to feel Even’s seed inside of him, and he was rewarded for his efforts after a little while, Even’s hands now gripping Isak’s spread thighs as he pistoned into him and delivered his load deep into Isak.

When he had finished, he slumped next to Isak on the bed, bringing his arms around him, and Isak realised how stiff he was, wrung through like wet linen after days of wear.

“Even,” he whispered, his eyes already beginning to snap shut as Even held him close against his chest, “I loved my present.”

Even chuckled, mouth pressing into his neck. “I knew you would.”

 

* * *

 

Isak awoke later to a great thirst. He reluctantly wriggled himself free from Even’s arms and headed out to the kitchen for clean water from the basin, naked as the day he was born and hoping Eva was not up yet.

The room was empty, save for the great white bear on the table, staring at Isak with beady dark eyes. It would have been beautiful in life, and Isak felt sad for it, but not sad enough to feel guilt over Even’s generous gesture.

He drank greedily and filled another cup for Even, about to head back, when he felt the familiar body behind him, arms wrapping around his body.

“I do not like you leaving the bed first,” Even told him, mouth pressing into his neck and peppering kisses down to his shoulder. Isak giggled at his tickling breath.

“I needed water.”

“I will bring you anything you need.”

“I am the thrall, Even!”

“Yes, and I am your master, and I _order_ you to stay in my bed,” Even told him. Isak’s giggles turned to throaty breaths of desire when he felt Even kneeling behind him, parting the globes of Isak’s ass, inspecting the wetness of his seed between them.

“Even!” he said, squirming uncomfortably, “What are you doing?”

And then he was forced to bring a hand up to his mouth, biting into it, when he felt Even’s tongue there, pushing in and lapping gently. “Th-this is so dirty,” he protested weakly, but Even simply pushed deeper in, until Isak’s hips started to thrust back. The whole area felt inflamed with sensitive nerve endings, worn thin from Even’s attentions, but still he craved more, and Even seemed only too happy to give it to him.

He sighed deeply, letting Even clean him out, and then he drifted into content drowsiness as Even picked him up and carried him back to bed.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Even’s wounds were in a considerably worse condition than they were previously, the blood mottled against his skin, and Isak cursed himself for getting swept up in his lust and ignoring them. Before the North man left for battle training, Isak made up a simple paste using the only items he had to hand: seal oil, garlic and some dried camomile flowers. Even hovered near the door, adamant he needed to get to training, as Isak pushed up the sleeves to his tunic and spread the paste over, before lifting up his shirt to apply it here as well. Even raised his eyebrows at this, mouth creeping up into a playful smile.

“Again?” he asked, and Isak rolled his eyes.

“These will become infected.”

“Then you will have to kiss them better.”

“I am not kissing your disgusting, scabby wounds!”

He tried to resist laughter as Even pulled him close, kissing his lips, before backing away, seeing he would not tempt Isak again this morning. “I will see you later in the day.”

“You will.”

Isak watched him leave before pushing the door closed, sighing despondently. He hated watching Even leave for the day, just as much as he knew Even hated leaving. Eva watched him from over her breakfast bowl, her eyes narrowed.

“He is different recently.”

“I…” Isak’s cheek flushed. “I’m sure you know why that is.”

“No,” Eva said decisively, shaking her head. “It is… a strange different. It is not just his insatiable libido, as annoying as that may be.”

Isak choked out a quick laugh at that. “Thank you, Eva!”

“Have you not noticed?”

Isak shrugged, shaking his head. He knew Even was different recently: light of heart, fleet of foot. But he was still kind, and gentle, and now he treated Isak as though there was no other word within his language. _It is love_ , Isak thought. That was the difference.

“I am worried about his wounds,” Isak said, changing the subject. “And winter has stripped this house of remedies. Is there a place in the village I can buy more?”

Eva nodded. “Nikolai would sometimes come home from raids with cuts to his face and arms. He would send me to a man in the village who sold such remedies. Eskild, something or other.” She smiled. “He is a good man. Very amusing. He would make me laugh, however briefly, before I had to go back to that monster.”

“Shall we go?” Isak asked. “It will be safe, won’t it?” In truth, Isak had not been harassed once by the other North men since Even had mutilated and killed Elias. Neither had Eva, who went to the village far more than Isak did, and had blossomed under Even’s mastership, her hips flaring out again, her hair beginning to grow back smooth and silken, still closely cropped to her head.

“Yes, it would be nice to get out of here,” she agreed.

They found coins on the table, Isak pocketing them, before wrapping up warm in their furs. The bear still lay on the table, and Eva shuddered when she looked back at it.

“Even needs to skin and joint it soon, or it will rot.”

“He will, Eva.”

“I’m not so sure,” she muttered, but when Isak glared at her she fixed her face with a smile. “Ignore me, I simply dislike sharing my house with a fallen creature such as this. I am sure that it possesses an ill divining spirit.”

Isak rolled his eyes. “Vilde told you too many children’s stories,” he said, pushing her out of the door. “Let’s go find this _Eskild_.”

 

* * *

 

The village was sleepy and quiet and they did not encounter any trouble as Eva led the way to Eskild’s shop in the hub of the village centre. The door was closed when they arrived but this did not put Eva off, rapping sharply against the wood until a tall man with shorn hair opened it, his face breaking out into a wide, genuine smile when he saw her.

“Eskild,” she said, returning his smile, as he leant forward to kiss her cheek.

His sharp eyes scanned over Isak and his smile turned mischievous.

“A baby thrall.”

“Isak,” Isak said huffily. “And _you_ are the one with the shaved head.”

“I find it quite daring,” Eskild said, pressing a hand into it. “It makes the other villagers confused. Am I thrall or am I a merchant? Who can say?” He winked at Isak. “We can’t all be blessed with pretty blonde curls.”

Isak rolled his eyes and Eva laughed at him, pushing Isak inside as she followed after him, closing the door behind them. “We are here to buy supplies,” she told Eskild. “To treat wounds.”

“I already have some paste mixed up,” Eskild said, walking over to one of the haphazardly stocked shelves that lined the walls of the wooden hut. “Here, this-”

“I don’t need the paste,” Isak told him sharply. He didn’t like being patronised when it came to mixing remedies; he had done it for his mama since he’d been a young boy and he knew he had some skill at it. “I am perfectly capable of making my own. I require ingredients, not remedies.”

Eskild looked over at Eva, as Isak pretended to ignore their amused glances. “Goodness, is he always this grumpy?”

“Yes,” Eva said immediately. “Best to just let him get on with it.”

As Eva and Eskild gossiped about village affairs, Isak drew down the ingredients he needed; dried plants and a thick wad of garlic, honey, beetle intestines that made him screw his nose up delicately at the sight. He knew Eva and Eskild were watching him from their vantage point of the seats in the middle of the room and he tried to ignore them, though his skin prickled at their fond expressions. Eva, he understood: there wasn’t much Isak was good at, and she had always praised his aptitude for healing. Eskild’s easy approach with him, however, was something new, and he found himself warming up to the gentle chatter between his best friend and this strange merchant until it felt like he had known this man forever.

“And who are these for?” Eskild asked, when Isak had finally finished, putting down his purchases on the table in front of the man so that he would be able to price them up. “Neither of you are injured, I hope?”

“It is for our master, Even,” Eva told him, and Isak shot her a warning look. He did not wish to discuss Even’s private matters with a stranger, even one as unthreatening as Eskild. And it seemed his instinct was correct, because he saw a definite shift in Eskild’s countenance at the mention of Even’s name.

“Ah,” Eskild said. “He is still injured from his fight with Björn?”

Isak blinked at that, confused, and when he looked across at Eva he saw she was equally perplexed.

“The gossips in the village,” Eskild started, without a trace of irony, “were full of whispers about the North men’s training yesterday. Björn’s wife came to see me, asking for an antidote to severe facial swelling.” He rolled his eyes in impatience as Isak and Eva continued to look at him blankly. “Apparently Even took offence to Björn’s recent actions and beat him half to death.”

Isak’s mouth dropped open and he took a step back, shaking his head. Isak _needed_ to believe Even wasn’t a casually violent man. Björn was one of the more disgusting North men; Isak still remembered the way he had taken Sara back in Jutland, the comments he had made to Even about fucking Isak boneless when they arrived in the North. But most of the men were like that here, and Even did well enough to ignore them.

“I don’t believe you,” Isak snapped, and Eskild held up his hands in deference.

“I can only tell you what I heard, baby thrall.”

“And what _did_ you hear?” Isak challenged. “Why would Even do something like that?”

Eskild looked from Eva to Isak, his face falling. “You do not know?”

“Know what?” Eva asked warily.

“That pretty blonde thrall that Björn owned, the one that arrived with you?”

“Sara,” Isak stated.

“Yes, Sara. Björn took her… repeatedly. She died not three moons ago from…” Eskild sighed, his expression haunted. “From continuous bleeding. I was unable to stop it.”

Eva put a hand to her mouth, and Isak felt something odd grow inside of him, spreading in multiples like fungus. Sara… _Sara_ was dead? He had not thought about her in weeks, lost in the new order of the North, but he had spoken to her often in the village. In more innocent times they had even played at courtship, until Eva had overheard Sara poking fun of Vilde and warned her away from the three of them.

Sara had not been an especially nice person, but she had still been a person. Isak remembered her terrified screams the night they had been taken from their village, ripped from their beds, and he felt a deep pain within his stomach that made him sit down, holding his arm across his waist and leaning forward in an attempt to alleviate the shock he felt.

“Sara,” Eva said, as though saying her name would somehow make a difference. “Sara-”

“Even did the right thing,” Isak said suddenly, looking at Eskild with a challenge in his eyes. _Dare to talk about him, dare to judge him… I will rip what little hair you have out_. But he saw no amusement or speculation or defiance in return. Eskild was as saddened by the situation as Eva and Isak were.

“I do not blame Even for what he did. I just believe he needs some-”

“Some what?” Isak said sharply, cutting him off. “Some brutish qualities, like the other men who live in this village? The same men that would laugh and jeer at us as they fuck us to death?”

“No,” Eskild said. “That is now what I meant. Even is-”

“We should go,” Isak said, not wanting to hear it. He fumbled for some money, throwing it down onto the table before them. There was too much, he was sure of it, but he simply wanted to get out of this place, away from Eskild’s concerned expression.

He thought about Even’s offering yesterday: how Even must have been so full of anger and rage upon finding out about what Björn did, that he had taken himself off to the icy plains of Hålogaland in order to hunt something real and primal. Isak did not know what to think, but he knew Even was not a bad person. He would not let Eskild try to persuade him otherwise.

On the way out, stamping out into the cold with a furious expression on his face, he turned to see Eskild and Eva huddled together, their worried eyes occasionally flitting over to Isak. Isak saw the name on their lips, knew they were discussing Even, and when he listened more closely he heard Eskild say, “He needs care, and you may not be able to provide it.”

“I do  _not_ need care,” he shouted suddenly. “I am not a weak little child.”

He stomped away, Eva hurrying after him, and he did not stop until he returned to the homestead.

When they arrived back, the white bear was still there, flies starting to assemble around its great bowed head.

And directly opposite the table where it lay, slumped against the wall, was Even. His eyes were unseeing, his broad shoulders sunken, dried blood collected at his exposed wounds.

“I thought they had taken you,” the North man said, his voice a dull timbre. “I thought-”

Isak watched in horror, Eva behind him, a soft hand on his shoulder, as Even began to silently cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Discussion of wounds and bloods, discussion of rape and murder, discussion of assault, mental health themes including a manic depressive episode, period typical ableism.


	18. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Even battles his own demons, Isak shares an old one of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the end of the chapter for trigger warnings (these include spoilers.)

**Chapter 17 - Lucky**

_And I feel the light for the very first time_  
_Not anybody knows that I am lucky to be alive_  
_And I feel light for the very first time_ _  
_ _Not anybody knows that I am lucky to be alive_

[Lucky, AURORA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5y8HVM5g-WU)

  

**Isak**

After, Even did not leave his bed for days.

Isak had gently led Even to his room where he held him for hours and whispered sweet words that he did not think Even could hear.

Eventually Even’s tears frightened him into a silence so heavy, all he could offer was his body in the vain hope of making them stop. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Even hadn’t wanted to fuck him. But he had hoarded Isak nonetheless, weeping into his neck as he stroked the soft down of his hair.

Eva was more shaken that she let on. She didn’t say a word, instead retreating to the kitchen where she kept her hands busy, only coming around every other hour to glimpse inside the room before skirting away.

She saw the same thing every time, Isak supposed: Isak curled around Even’s prone form and Even’s face hidden against Isak’s chest. He wondered why she felt the need to do it and realised after awhile that she was checking to make sure that Even had not harmed Isak.

The thought was ludicrous. Iif Isak’s limbs weren’t sown between Even’s like threads, he would have throttled her. Even’s heavy weight against his chest was the only thing that kept him calm and clear minded despite the turmoil in his heart.

When Even’s tears quieted after the first night, he fell into a stupor. A state of limp indifference that Isak was familiar with. Isak could vaguely remember his mother falling into the same state but the memories were muddy. The sight of Even in the same state felt new, like a wound on tender skin.

It had been days and Even remained still. Isak would have thought him dead if it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest, his eyes dull even as Isak pressed his forehead to Even’s hot one.

“Are you hungry?” Isak asked lightly. He stroked Even’s brow when he did not respond, imploring him to hear.

After a moment, Even shook his head and Isak felt the knot in his chest lessen just a bit. Even was still there, even if his mind was a fortress Isak could not enter.

“Will you eat anyway?”

When Even stared back at him blankly, Isak pushed forward and pressed his dry lips to Even’s chapped ones. Even did not return the kiss but when Isak pulled back, he appeared more alive.

“For me?” Isak asked.

“Anything for you,” Even said tiredly, and Isak felt his heart and his body lurch. His voice was raspy and deep from disuse but they were the first words Even had said in days.

“Thank you,” Isak said quietly, afraid to ruin the newly broken ground between them. He lowered his lips to Even’s sweaty brow and placed a soft kiss there before extracting himself from bed to get some food.

The homestead that just a few days ago had simmered with the excitement of Isak and Even’s new relationship was now weighed down with an oppressive silence that permeated every corner of the house. Even closing the door to Even’s room sounded too loud.

Isak padded into the kitchen, his step light, before collapsing at the table, finally allowing himself a moment of respite to hold his tired head.

He could feel Eva’s eyes on him but he didn’t look up. If she tried to brag about being right about Even’s moods, he didn’t know what he would do or say. He did not think he would be able to control his tongue.

Thankfully, even Eva realised that Isak was not in the mood for petty squabbles.

“Is he feeling better?” she asked softly.

Her voice was kind but after lying in Even’s silence for hours, her words sounded accusing.

“He’ll _get_ better,” Isak said sharply. He had not wanted to accept it but after days of caring for Even, feeding him bread and wiping his brow like a child, it became clear what kind of ailment had taken him.

Eva had been aware of Isak’s mother’s affliction. The entire village had known and had treated him kinder because of it. But that did not mean Eva was intimately aware of the illness that Isak’s mother and now Even suffered from.

His mother’s moods changed like the wind. One day she would be hopelessly happy and the next she would be boneless and listless, like Even was now.

 _And the next day she hit me with a hot poke_ _r_ , Isak thought bitterly, his stomach churning with fear at the memory. As he mulled in silence, the memory began to transform into the ugly visage of Even, striking him with the same fire poker.

Isak stood up abruptly to shake the image from his mind, startling Eva who was stirring something rich by the hearth.

“What are you making?” Isak asked, to distract himself.

Eva eyed him tentatively for a moment before replying, “A simple fish stew with some medicine that Eskild gave me for Even.”

When Isak did not react Eva continued, “He told me that Even often won’t take his potion willingly so he advised me to mix it into his food. He said it helps with his mood.”

“Have you been slipping it into his food?” Isak asked quietly.

Eva hesitated before answering, “Yes.”

There had been no medicine in the village to treat his mother. All Isak could do was live in fear over when the next instance of illness would strike her and put her mind and his own into a state of unrest. It was no way to live.

“Thank you,” Isak said, resting one hand on her shoulder before allowing it to slip off. Eva nodded and did not reply, but the air between them somehow seemed easier to breathe now.

Isak watched as Eva added the potion, the tonic a murky green, before she brought the soup to a boil and it disappeared. When there was no trace of green left, she used her wooden ladle to pour it into a chipped bowl where she placed a crust of bread to absorb the broth.

 _She’s optimistic_ , Isak thought. Even had not eaten more than some fish from Isak’s fingers over the course of several days.

“Thank you,” Isak said again as he picked up the bowl, but Eva waved him off.

“Please stop thanking me, It doesn’t sound right. I’m much more used to you taking advantage of all my free labour and never saying a word,” she drawled. But her smile was teasing and hesitant as if asking, _Is this alright?_

Isak took it in stride and shot back, “Fine, then I won’t thank you. I’ll just tell Even I made him the stew,” He grinned like this was a normal day where they would tease each other over Even’s praise. Thankfully, Eva played along and snorted in return.

It felt good to laugh and smile after days of aching worry.

His smile quickly dissipated as he walked back to Even’s room and carefully pushed open the door. Even was where Isak had left him, curled up on one side of the bed. He always seemed so tall and broad to Isak, and he was. But curled up and limp he looked like little more than a boy.

“Even?” Isak called as he walked in and set the bowl on the dresser. “I brought you food.”

When Even did not move, Isak moved to grab the pillows and rearrange them, pulling Even up into a sitting position to feed him. But Even abruptly sat up and pulled the pillows from his grasp.

“I’m not a child,” Even said curtly, “I don’t need you to feed me like one.”

Isak was so surprised by Even moving and actually talking that he couldn’t be hurt by his biting tone. He cautiously sat down beside him and watched as he ate almost aggressively before the hand going to his mouth began to slow with the same heaviness as before. Not wanting him to lose his vigour for eating, Isak spoke.

“I made it,” Isak lied. Eva and he had been jesting before but he doubted that she would care if he took credit for her cooking. “Do you like it?”

“I...don’t like much of anything,” Even admitted listlessly, “But it makes my stomach hunger less.”

“I am glad,” Isak said simply. Dislike was better than indifference.

Even looked at him and Isak found himself taken aback by the complete _anguish_ he saw there.

“You should not be glad,” Even said tiredly, “You should loathe me, Isak. I’m a monster.”

Isak would have run any man or woman through who dared to say such things about Even to his face. Or at least tried to. Hearing the words come from Even himself felt like someone had run Isak through instead. He gingerly brushed his hand where the pain blossomed on his chest, expecting to find a sword protruding from his tunic, but all he felt was cloth.

“What are you saying?” Isak said gently, bringing his hand to cup Even’s strong jaw, thumbing under his eyes. When he pulled his fingers away he saw that Even’s tears stained the tips.

“Monsters do not cry,” Isak said simply, “Monsters do not rescue young boys and girls and monsters are not...kind.”

When Even did not answer his declaration, Isak grabbed his face more firmly and said, “You have shown me insurmountable kindness since I’ve come into your charge, even though you did not have to. Even when you would have been greater rewarded to just use and dispose of me like the rest of them.” Isak thought of Sara’s broken body that was now buried under miles of frozen dirt and Eva’s, which was still recovering from weeks of abuse, and knew this to be true.

But the words did not little to comfort Even whose face grew sterner but more sorrowful.

“I took you,” Even said brokenly, “I took you from your home and made you come to this terrible place. The sun does not shine here, _Lille Sol_ , you are the only one who does. I was selfish and for that, I’m a monster.”

Even seemed to collapse, like a puppet on cut strings, all his energy leaving him as quickly as it had appeared.

“I deserve to die for everything that I have done,” Even said calmly. And though his eyes were dry now, Isak felt tears spring to his own.

“Do not say that to me ever again,” Isak said, his voice cracking as tears began to fall down his ruddy cheeks. Isak could see Even’s whole body flinch at the sound of his tears so he willed himself to calm down. This was not about his own sorrow, but Even’s.

He laid down across from him and pressed close until their foreheads were pressed together.

“You are not a monster,” Isak said firmly, “You are my Even and you are not alone. You can regret taking me that night as much as you want but I will be with you until we are both long dead and buried. And I will be with you long after that when we reach the golden gates of _Helgafjell.”_

Isak felt Even relax against him and lean forward until their noses were brushing each other.

“Why _Helgafjell_?” Even asked dryly and it took Isak a moment to hear his question, his attention focused on the soft puffs of warm air slipping from Even’s lips.

“Well,” Isak floundered for a moment, “You are a great warrior and deserve to go to _Valhalla_ but I am not. And I wish to be with you forever so _Helgafjell_ will have to do.”

He expected Even to make a biting comment about his fighting prowess. It was the one thing he was proud of. But instead he smiled and pressed his lips to Isak’s gently.

“Yes, I suppose _Helgafjell_ will have to do. As long as I am with you, I think I could find even _Hel_ comfortable.”

Isak felt his heart jump with happiness at Even’s words and his obvious teasing. He had not seen him smile or joke in what felt like years.

“Now, neither of us will be going to _Hel_. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again.”

Isak pursed his lips and spoke in between hard pecks.

“You. are. no. monster.”

When his breath became short and his eyes hazy, he looked up to see Even looking down at him fondly.

“When you put it like that, how can I deny you?” Even said.

“You’re never to deny me,” Isak said coquettishly. “We’ve spoken about this before. I may be the thrall but we both know who the real master of the homestead is.”

Isak giggled as Even jabbed at his stomach, purposely prodding him where he was soft and tender.

“We will see about that once I get out of his filthy bed,” Even said sardonically.

It should not have made Isak happy to have Even remark on his poor laundering skills, but it did.

Even had not bathed in days and the bed and his body reeked because of it. Sweat stained the sheets and Even’s hair until it became limp and greasy. In his state he had not noticed. His disgust at it all was a good sign.

“I can launder them,” Isak said helpfully, “You do not have to do anything.”

“You being eager to do work is very suspicious,” Even said but his voice was tired.

“Someone told me I was a very hard worker recently,” Isak shot back. He kissed Even’s forehead and whispered, “Now, rest,” before departing from the room, his spirits lifted.

He found the baskets that Eva had loaded with linens and retrieved new sheets for the bed and several washcloths for Even, intended for when he found the energy to bathe.

“How is Even?” Eva asked as she watched him with struggle with the basket with an almost amused expression.

“He is actually better,” Isak said cheerily as he loaded his arms with the linens and stood on shaky legs under their weight.

“Is he?” Eva asked curiously, “I heard some yelling in the hallway and listened in. He seemed very upset.”

“Well he’s fine now,” Isak shot back, annoyed. Even was finally recovering from his affliction, why was Eva so insistent on ruining things?

“I’m sorry,” Eva said holding her hands up in mock surrender, “I just think it is wiser to stay alert and wait out his ailment longer. You do remember the last time you thought an episode was over too soon?” She looked at him sadly, her eyes falling to his leg with a knowing look. Although his wounded leg was covered by his breeches, Isak unconsciously covered it by crossing his legs while he stood.

“Yes Eva, I’m well aware.”

“Good,” Eva said firmly, and this time there was no tentativeness behind it, “It is better to be safe.” When Isak glared at her for the insinuation Eva rolled her eyes and said, “ _For the both of you._ Remember, Even is much stronger and more capable than your mother.”

Isak’s mother had been a fragile woman but that had not limited the amount of wounds she had inflicted on herself and Isak. Her arms were dotted and her chest was lined with scars that she had taken with her to _Hel._ Isak bore his own that he would carry until he entered there himself with Even.

Despite it all, Isak wasn’t worried that Even would raise a hand on him in malice. He knew that Even would take a hand to himself first.

 _Even would take a hand to himself first._ The thought echoed in his mind, becoming more urgent as he made sense of his own subconscious feelings.

 _Even wished for his own death for a short moment,_ Isak thought frantically as he looked back on their conversation. The reminder felt like a bucket of cold water.

Eva was right. Even was much stronger than his mother. If he truly wanted to harm himself, he could and he would and Isak would be even more helpless than he had been the last time. The thought was debilitating and Isak felt his weak arms that were carrying the pile of cloth begin to tremble.

“Do you need help carrying them?” Eva asked helpfully but Isak shook his head jerkily and shoved past her, a plan already forming in mind.

Even could not be allowed near any weapons. While it became a game of theirs to tease and flirt over who was the real master, Isak knew in his bones that Even’s power over the homestead was absolute.

But not now, Isak decided, not when he was ailing and afflicted. With Even ill, it was Isak’s responsibility to care of him and their home. And that included the armoury, with which the key lay against Even’s heart, bound to his neck with a thick strip of leather.

When Isak returned, Even appeared to be asleep again, this time sprawled out on the bed as he usually was when he was not ill.

“Even?” Isak whispered as he placed the linens on the floor and stepped closer to the head of the bed. When Even did not move, Isak quickly made work of pulling off the key that hung around his neck.

He quickly shuffled out of the room with the key clutched in his hand. He felt like a common criminal, though he had stolen before. Nothing larger than small trinkets at fairs and markets but definitely larger than one innocuous key. He supposed this was worse because he wasn’t stealing from a faceless merchant, but from Even.

He had never gone down to the armoury himself but he knew where it resided. It was the only door in the homestead with a lock and it resided at the very back of the house. The doorway was lined with stones engraved with runes that Isak could barely read. With shaky fingers, he pushed the key into the lock and slowly turned it. The resounding click of the lock opening made him flinch and look around like a madman but no one appeared. Not even Eva who seemed to float around the homestead like a phantom.

He stepped inside and shivered as his bare feet stepped onto the cold stone floor. Looking around, he knew he had made the right choice to steal the key from Even. Swords, broad axes, daggers, and countless other weapons Isak could not name lined the walls on racks that were filled to the brim. His own mother hadn’t needed any weapon as big as these. She had been a small woman so a kitchen knife to her soft flesh had been enough to take her from this world and into _Hel_.

Even was a man, and a large capable one. Who knew what harm he could purposely cause to himself under the affliction of madness, as he was now.

“I deserve to die,” Even had said. It may have been a stray thought, but Isak could not leave it to chance.

 _I will give the key back to him once he is well again_ , Isak decided as he looked at the numerous weapons and thought of the damage they could do to Even’s surprisingly human flesh.

“What are you doing?” Even’s deep voice resounded behind him, making him jump in fright before spinning around.

No longer the image of a little boy that Isak had cared for these past few days, Even loomed over him standing at his full height. If Isak’s heart hadn’t been pounding with shock he would have cried with gratitude at the sight of Even out of his bed.

But his heart was pounding with shock that was quickly turning to acidic guilt as Even’s eyes grew stormier when he spotted the key clutched in Isak’s hands.

“Did you steal the key to the armoury?”

When Even reached to grab it from Isak’s grip, Isak instinctively stepped back and pulled it to his chest protectively.

Even’s face dawned with realisation but Isak was not sure of what conclusions he was coming to.

“Did you come here to get a weapon? To kill me?”

Isak did not know what was more disturbing. The easy way Even accepted such a truth or the fact that Even thought him capable of something so heinous.

“No!” he yelled, offended now, “I came here to protect you.”

It sounded foolish to Isak when he said it aloud and it obviously did to Even too because he laughed, his head falling back and his eyes crinkling.

“Do not laugh at me,” Isak said petulantly. In a small voice he whispered, “I was worried you would harm yourself.”

“Harm myself?” Even said, all notes of humour gone from his voice, “So now that you know I have an affliction, you think I’m a coward as well?”

“It’s not about being a coward,” Isak said weakly, “It’s about feeling...empty. And losing the will to live. That doesn’t make someone a coward.” He thought back to his own mother and could not assign the word coward to her memory.

“I’m not going to argue the semantics of words with someone who only learned how to read a few moons ago,” Even said harshly and Isak flinched. Even paused, his face pained like he wanted to take back the words. But he continued. “Despite your intentions, I am the owner of the homestead and this is my property and my home. It is my responsibility to care for you, not the other way around.”

“That’s not how it works, Even,” Isak said desperately, “We both know that if I had not cared for you these past few days you would have rotted away in your bed. Didn’t I do a good job taking care of you?”

“You did,” Even said gently, obviously cowed by Isak’s emotion, “But that does not change anything. Give me the keys Isak.”

“No,” Isak said and stepped back until the sheath of a sword was pointedly pressed into his back.

“Isak…” Even said warningly, stepping closer to him. And though he knew Even would not harm him, Isak brought his hands over his chest protectively, causing Even to stop.

“Do you know what happened the last time I left someone who was supposed to care for me alone?”

Even stared at him blankly and Isak felt tears begin to cloud his image until he was just a cloudy mirage.

“ _My mother_ took a blade to her wrists and cut herself open like a pig, because she wanted to die so much.”

Reaching behind him, Isak pulled one of Even’s swords from its sheath and lifted it the best he could until it was pressed to the cold flesh of his own wrists.

“She cut herself from here,” Isak pointed at the bone base of his wrist, “To here,” And then at the soft hollow of his elbow.

“By the time I got home she was….” Isak sobbed as tears began to trickle into his mouth and down to his chin, “She bled out like an animal. The entire hut looked like a butcher’s shop. And it was my fault, Even. It was my fault.” Isak could feel his chest start to heave with tears as Even stared at him in horror, before the sword fell from his hands and to the cold stone floor.

“Oh _Min Sol_ ,” Even said as he pulled Isak into his arms. “It was not your fault, none of it was your fault.”

Even’s words felt like a warm rush in Isak’s ears but they did little to quiet his tears.

“I would never leave you like that. I would never leave you.”

As Even hushed him, Isak realised why Even had not responded to Isak’s honeyed words over the past few days. When grief took hold of one’s body, it was hard to feel anything but that.

Though Even was weak from his days in bed, he carried Isak to bed and for a few moments he was back in his old role. The protector and master of the homestead with Isak as his lost ward that needed comfort.

But when Isak woke, it was as before with only one noticeable difference. While Even’s hair was still greasy and the sheets were still sweat stained, the key to the armoury hung around Isak’s neck.

The weight of it felt like cold surety against the warm flesh of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Period-Typical Ableism, Depressive Episode, Medication without consent, Graphic discussion of Self harm and suicide.


	19. Untouchable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a disturbance in the homestead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the trigger warnings in the end notes (these contain spoilers.)

**Chapter 18 - Untouchable**

_I've been treated so wrong_

_I've been treated so long_

_As if I'm becoming untouchable_

_I'm the slow dying flower_

_In the frost killing hour_

_Sweet turning sour and untouchable_

[My Skin, Natalie Merchant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBMUVHwW2UI)

 

**Eva**

It was not unusual for Eva to wake on her own, not anymore. Isak had been a warm fixture in her bed most nights, before Even finally claimed him as a lover, and though Isak would still sometimes crawl under the goose down covers as she slumbered, it was only ever a token gesture, intended to show her she was not alone. Since Even had fallen into his dark despair, she had not felt Isak’s familiar sturdy form next to her once. Even was the only thing he saw now.

So no, it was not unusual for her to wake up on her own. But it was unusual for her to wake up to a wave of abject fear that flooded the homestead like the freezing water underneath the ice covered fjords that surrounded Halogaland.

She was immediately alert, her body tense, now strong and able from the food Even plyed her and Isak with. Her ears adjusted; she heard a muffled sob, the sharp slap of flesh, a light body hitting the ground.

 _Even is hurting Isak_ , she thought. As little as she knew about affliction of the mind, she knew that Isak already bore the proof of the violence inside people like Even. Like his Mama. Her stomach twisted, thinking about Even’s tall and muscular form, the way he was able to move Isak around like he weighed nothing. Isak’s mother had been a tiny woman, at least, and he’d stood a chance against her when she had attacked him. Eva could not say the same for Even.

She pushed back the covers, body tensing as adrenaline coursed through her. Picking up a wooden chair in the corner of the room, she moved silently from the bedroom into the main hearth of the homestead. The sound was easy to locate; she saw two figures near the fire hearth, their bodies entwined, the smaller of the two struggling underneath.

But the larger of the two… was not Even.

She had been wrong.

She felt her body seize up, horror gripping her in its relentless fist, as she took in the now familiar form of Nikolai Magnusson, though she had been more acquainted with him in the position Isak was in now; the imposing figure, the shock of pale hair above her, not in front.

He had not noticed her. She tried to make her body move, to help Isak, her hands gripping the chair tighter as she lifted it over her head, but she was struck dumb with fright, seeing this man that had tormented her for so many weeks, in the sanctuary she had come to think of as Even’s homestead.

“...sweet justice,” Nikolai was saying, Eva’s ears adjusting, hearing, without any response. “To kill his little whore, his thrall, while he is struck down in bed.”

“If I scream he will come,” Isak gasped out in a choked breath, Eva realising that Nikolai’s large hands were round the small pale neck, pressing inwards, “He will-”

“Then scream, _Lille Sol._ That’s what he calls you, isn’t it? Scream for your master.”

Of course, Isak didn’t scream, and Eva knew why. Isak did not believe that Even would rouse from what seemed like an eternal slumber he had fallen into three days ago. And if he did… he would be weak, groggy, perhaps even unsteady on his feet.

Nikolai would kill him.

“Perhaps he is out, fucking some new whore?” Nikolai asked, his voice deceptively sweet. “Perhaps he is out fighting some savage beast? Even, _The Berserker,_  the fiercest warrior of the North.”

Nikolai laughed, loudly and coldly, with no attempt to keep his voice down.

“Or maybe,” Nikolai said, his voice lowering as he came closer to Isak, and Eva tried to make her body move, to swing the chair, to _fight_ , “Maybe he is here but he is struck down with his _affliction_. Is that it?”

Isak sobbed, and the sound of it chilled Eva’s heart. _He has given too much away_ , she realised.

“That is what I thought,” Nikolai said, chuckling. “Good. I will leave you here to bleed out, I will stick this dagger through Eva, that traitorous _slut_. I will stick this dagger through her breasts.  And then I will drag Even out here, make him look upon your beautiful, broken corpse before I cut his head off.” Eva saw Isak shudder as Nikolai bent back down, a tongue coming out to run across his cheekbone. “Do not cry, _Lille Sol_. Even in death, you will be prettier than half the whores in this poor excuse for a village.”

Eva knew that Nikolai was mocking Isak, using that name: his words were designed to strike pain through Isak’s heart. But they did not work. Eva was close enough to see the fire in Isak’s eyes and it cheered her through; when Isak leant up and spat in Nikolai’s face, she found herself coming out of her stupor, her mind overpowering her body, telling her: _fight, this man is a monster, you must fight._

“You little _whore_ ,” Nikolai said, his hands becoming tighter around Isak’s neck as he drew his dagger, pressing it to the exposed underside of Isak’s chin. “I am going to gut you through, from chin to stomach, and you’ll scream for me just as Even’s mother did.”

There was a bloom of horrified understanding in Isak’s eyes. Nikolai nodded, triumphant at having shared this secret, convinced Isak would never be able to tell anyone about it. A last chance to wound him before his dagger finished him off.

And then Isak spied Eva over Nikolai’s shoulder, his body tensing as the dagger began to draw blood from his neck. Nikolai’s reflexes were fast, spinning round to look upon Eva. But Eva was faster.

She brought the wooden chair down on his head two, three times, screaming as she did so. She thought about his pale, cold fingers on her, _inside_ of her, in the places that should have been hers and hers alone. She thought about him shearing her hair as though as she was no better than the sheep that were herded around the fields of their home in Jutland. She thought about his ugly, hard cock pressing into her, his cruel laugh when she had begged him to be gentle, the harsh slap around her face when she stared at him in disgust.

And with each of these memories she brought the chair down on him, his body slumping further, the left side of his head caved in as he groaned, bringing his hands up to protect his head.

She continued to bring the chair down until its wooden limbs came away in her hands.

Isak stared up, unseeing, mouth moving as though he was trying to form words. She let out a small sob and knelt next to him, checking for injury; the only evidence Nikolai had touched him was the small nick of blood at his neck.

She looked up when she heard loud, lumbering footsteps staggering into the room, Even’s voice forming a deep, horrified roar of terror when he saw the scene in front of him. Still too far away to notice Isak’s breathing, he must have assumed the worst, because he fell to his knees, his hands at his eyes, muttering, “No, no, no, not again, not again,” and for a moment Eva thought she could see the boy he had been, before his life had become irreversibly altered by Nikolai.

“Even, he is not dead,” she told him, her voice surprisingly strong, and it gave her the strength to order him, “Get up now, he needs you.”

His body appeared to be locked into a place she could not reach him; the responsibility of taking charge of this situation spurred her on. She had not asked for this but she would take it.

“Even,” she said, kneeling in front of him, her hands on either side of his bowed head, “Your love needs you. _Isak_ needs you. You must go to him, now.”

She kept saying it, kept saying Isak’s name and the words _needs you_ until something pierced Even’s exterior, worming its way into his head. He finally looked up, his blue eyes sweeping open, and she nodded at him. “Take him to your bedroom,” she told him. “Keep him warm. Tell him he is safe. Take as long as you need. Then come back here to help me.”

Even nodded, reflexes still slow, and stumbled to his feet. She watched him walk to Isak, kneeling beside him, his large hands so gentle on Isak’s skin, even as they trembled.

Then he hoisted Isak up into his arms, Isak curling into him, beginning to sob, and she waited for Even to take him from this room, and the terrible thing that had just happened here.

She stood for a long time, listening to Nikolai’s laboured breath, and gradually it dawned on her that he was not dead. It was no matter to her, because soon he would be. But a hardening in her heart blossomed out into a coldness in her entire body, and she turned back to him, sneering when she took in the limp form beneath her.

“You are pathetic,” she told him, and he let out a small groan in response. “Look at you. Felled by a woman. Felled by a weak, sloppy whore. Isn’t that what you called me, after you had taken me for the ninth, tenth time?”

She saw him attempting to move, hand feeling for the dagger within inches of her fingers. She watched, and laughed, as he tried to form words. “Reach out and take it, oh mighty _North man_ ,” she told him. “Grip it in those cold hands, plunge it into my breast. Is that not what you said you would do?”

He continued to move his mouth, a _fff_ at his lips, and she moved towards him, cupping her ear. “ _Fff_ ?” she repeated. “What is it you wish to say, Nikolai Magnusson? _Fffff-fuck you, whore_?” She knelt down beside him, taking the dagger up easily that he had strained so hard for.

She watched, detached completely, as red blood pooled behind his head. “You love that word, don’t you? _Whore_. You love spitting it out as though we had any choice in what happened to us. The difference, though, is that a _whore_ gets paid. A _whore_ still has freedoms. We have none. You. Gave. Us. None.” With each word, she jabbed the dagger against his neck, into the spot he had cut Isak.

“Bitch,” he mouthed soundlessly, and she dug it in deeper, provoking a high pitched whistle in the back of his throat.

“You should have fled the village when Even defeated you in battle,” she told him, pitying him in that moment. “You were disgraced, humiliated. You think you are a real man, but real men do not hide in the shadows, skulking, waiting for their next opportunity to strike.” He tried to move, even now finding some last inner reserve of strength to take her slurs against his manhood as a punishable action, but she slapped his face hard, his head slamming back against the floor.

“At least you did this yourself tonight, I’ll give you that. You did not manipulate an even stupider man to do your bidding,” she said. “But _you_ were stupid. You were clever enough to work out that Even would be of no use to Isak, but you underestimated me. Men like you always do.”

“Y-you are w-weak,” he mouthed at her, his face twisting up painfully in an ugly smile that revealed blood at his gums. “W-were w-eak.”

“Exactly. I _was_. Not anymore. I have learnt, I have been patient, I have learned the brutal ways of the North. Aren’t you proud of me, North man?”

He was most certainly not proud. He stared at her in disgust, the ugly smile still on his features, as though he could not pull his mouth out of the position it was now in, and she turned the dagger over in her hand, inspecting it.

“You were going to kill Isak, kill me with this,” she said, almost conversationally, and vague recognition flickered in his eyes, as though he had forgotten what he had come here to do. “Because you could not bear it, the thought of us happy here, away from the bloodlust and rape that plagues this Gods forsaken place. You looked Isak in his pretty green eyes, told him what you were going to do to him, wanted to see him look up in fear at you.”

She moved her body, straddling Nikolai’s waist, staring into his ice blue eyes.

“I am going to cut off your disgusting, worthless cock. I am going to take great pleasure in knowing that you will never use it to hurt another person again.”

She saw his eyes widen, knowing he was powerless, and she laughed shrilly at that. “You will finally know what it feels like, for someone to rip out your sex, to take the choice away from you. I hope to the Gods you are as brave as I had to be.”

The flaccid muscle that she took in her hands was pathetic, and yet it had made this monster truly believe that he was better than her. He had used his surety of his place in this dark world to take her, and she knew now that he had been nothing but a coward.

She took it from his body with two clean cuts, his body convulsing, a death rattle at his breath, and watched silently as he bled out to his death.

There was no sound for a long, long time. Perhaps she was there for hours. Eventually, she heard footsteps behind her, a strong hand on her shoulder.

“Eva,” Even said, “Are you…?”

“I have never been better,” she said, and she meant it.

“Isak is sleeping, finally. He was… I have never seen him like that.”

“I have,” she said, thinking about when she had found him, after his mother had taken her life. He had taken days to come out of his own terrified mind, and she hoped he would be stronger now he had Even to help him through this. “He does not like the sight of blood,” she said somberly, and her and Even shared an understanding in that moment.

“We need to do something about his body,” Even said, and Eva nodded. She was surprised when Even’s next words were practical, not passive. “We must burn him first. Enough to singe his features from him. Then we can throw him in the ground in an unmarked grave, as he deserves.”

She nodded again, meeting his eyes, and she saw the anger in them. She understood it. She felt it herself, even now she had taken Nikolai’s life from him.

Now, though, she no longer feared the anger inside of her. For in anger there was a truth and strength that made her better.

 

* * *

 

Under the cover of darkness they built a pyre far into the fields of Even’s estate. They lit it, and threw the corpse on top of it. They watched, side by side, as his skin turned from flesh to grey to black.

When he was indistinguishable, Even dug a grave and they rolled him into it. Nikolai was not a man anymore, and it felt like he never had been. He would not go to _Valhalla_ , to the sacred halls of the warriors who had died heroically in battle. He had died a coward’s death, under a blade wielded by a woman, and she was happy for it. She would enjoy taunting him when she made her own way to Hel in many years to come.

“I am grateful to you, Eva. If I had lost Isak-” Even began, knocking the dark thoughts from her head with the mention of Isak’s name.

“You do not need to say anything,” she told him. She did not need his approval, his thanks, or his gratitude. She had done this for herself, and for Isak, not for Even.

“But I do,” Even insisted. “I have not… I have not always been kind to you, Eva. And I see now, how strong you are, and I feel I owe you an apology for my coldness.”

Eva did not begrudge Even his coldness. She understood so much now. Nikolai’s words, his twisted confession to Isak: how he had been the one to murder Even’s mother. The villagers spoke of Even’s violent, brutal matricide and patricide as though it had been a tale carved into stone. No wonder Even had cut himself off from the whispering that followed him wherever he stepped foot.

And even within herself, her first instinct tonight, when she had heard the struggle between Isak and Nikolai as she had awoken from sleep, was to assume the worst of Even.

Yes, she understood why Even was cold, and she thought how remarkable it was that Isak had brought out the inner light within him like sunshine beginning to creep into the last breaths of winter.

“Even, I-” she said, wondering how to broach the subject of his mother. But it occurred to her that it was not her place. This was a conversation that Isak, when he awoken from his deep, healing sleep, needed to have with him.

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow, and she sighed.

“Please, do not tell Vilde about this,” she said. He laughed.

“I will not tell anyone.”

“Not even Isak?”

“Especially not Isak.”

 _Should I protest that?_ she wondered. Surely Isak would know that neither her or Even would have allowed Nikolai to walk out of the homestead alive tonight? And yet… and yet Isak had always wanted to believe the best in Eva, even when his defences were at their highest, even when he pretended not to trust anyone. Of course, it had to be the same for Even.

He would wake from his sleep, he would be confused and disorientated, desperate to return to the life that he and Even had begun to make for themselves. And so if Even did not wish to tell him that his best friend was a ruthless murderer, capable of dismembering a man as he lay prone on the floor, was that really a bad thing?

“I think that is a good idea,” she said, and Even looked surprised at her easy acquiescence, before kicking dirt over the hole that contained Nikolai, until the ground resembled the fields around it.

“You love Vilde,” he said. “She was your first worry, before Isak.”

“Yes,” she nodded. She had not thought of Vilde this evening, some part of her recognising that she did not want to taint her memories of this night with her familiar, beloved memories of Vilde. “I miss her every day. I miss the freedoms we had in Jutland. The way I could touch her, and hold her when she needed me, before the North men told us we were no longer people.”

“This village is sick,” Even said. “It needs healing. But for my part, please… have Vilde here as often as you wish. She is as welcome here as you are.”

There was a gentle determination on his face that she had never seen before, and she smiled at him, reaching for one of his large, cold hands. She squeezed it hard and said, “You must somehow show the villagers that we are all the same. That we bleed and die like the rest of them.”

Even squeezed her hand in return, no promise but no rejection of the idea either, and then turned, heading back to the homestead, to the boy inside who he loved. Eva watched him leave, and then looked down at the ground beneath her feet.

She spat on the unmarked grave and followed Even back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Discussion of rape, Attempted & actual murder, Bodily dismemberment, Period-typical Ableism.


	20. Foreigner's God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak seeks God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the trigger warnings in the end note (these contain spoilers.)

**Chapter 19 - Foreigner’s God**

_Screaming the name_

_Of a foreigner's God_

_Screaming the name_

_Of a foreigner's God_

_Screaming the name_

_Of a foreigner's God_

_The purest expression of grief_

[Foreigner’s God, Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7TAhi8Q3ec)

 

**Isak**

When Isak woke it was with the warm surety of Even at his back, long arms wrapped around his waist. He sunk into them until he remembered the feeling of unfamiliar arms wrapping around him only hours ago, trying to bend him over to slit his throat.

He flinched at the memory, and that’s when Even begun to wake, arms tensing and pulling Isak back to his hard chest.

Isak could feel the huff of Even’s warm breath on his neck and it calmed his racing heartbeat enough for him to slowly roll over and look into Even’s eyes.

They were still hazy, the fog of his affliction not quite gone, but they were harder now. He did not even seem to blink as his eyes possessively drunk in the image of Isak’s face. The attention was heady and Isak could feel blood rushing to his cheeks in response.

“Good morning, _Min Sol_ ,” Even said softly as fingers brushed down the solid line of Isak’s jaw.

Isak felt his eyelashes flutter at his touch and it took a moment to collect himself.

“Good morning,” he whispered back, unwilling to break the fragile peace between them with a loud word.

Even broke it first when he kissed Isak’s chapped lips, and pulled away to swing his long legs over the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Isak asked frantically, as he felt hot panic rise in his chest like bile.

Even seemed just as confused by Isak’s outburst as Isak but he cupped Isak’s face in his big hands firmly to soothe him. “I’m going to get you your first meal in bed, you deserve it after last night.”

The words were logical but the idea of Even leaving him at this very moment felt like an anvil pressing on his chest. His muddled mind conjured images of Even stepping into the hall and being bludgeoned to death by Nikolai. Or Nikolai stepping into the room and pressing a cold hand to Isak’s mouth and...

“No, no, please Even. I’m scared -” Isak began, ready to beg, but Even didn’t give him a chance.

Isak squeaked as Even wordlessly picked him up, two strong hands hooked under his knees until lsak’s sleep flushed face was hidden in Even’s neck.

He should have been embarrassed. Even hadn’t carried him like this for many moons, but there was comfort to be found in being cradled like a babe against Even’s chest.

Isak allowed his head to fall back on Even’s shoulder. He drew breath into his nose to inhale the sharp scent of Even, before Even deposited him gently on one of the chairs in the dining room. He couldn’t stop himself from whimpering in protest at the lack of warmth, and he saw Even look at him fondly before turning towards the hearth where Eva stood, cooking the first meal.

Her face was hidden from him, auburn hair hanging around her face in tendrils and obscuring it from Isak’s curious gaze. She almost looked like her old self again. He wanted her to turn to him and tease or even chastise to make him feel that the night’s events had not irreparably damaged them both, but she stubbornly averted her eyes.

Even had been silent for the last few days, only talking to Isak in short clipped sentences, so Isak felt himself grow tense and suspicious as Even begun to whisper to Eva. Even was a reclusive and quiet man and Isak was proud to be his only confidante. Watching him talk to Eva, both of their backs pointedly turned towards Isak, made something ugly curl in his belly.

“Is everything okay?” Isak asked and he watched Eva flinch before turning towards him. She hadn’t flinched in a long time, falling into her role as Even’s respected thrall even if they both knew Isak was more loved. _She must still be shaken after seeing that monster last night_ , Isak thought sadly and he immediately felt ashamed for the jealousy that had clouded his mind.

“All is well,” Eva said quickly, making Isak squint at her in suspicion. She always spoke quickly when she was hiding things from him. Isak saw Even pat her shoulder before she turned back to the hearth. Even walked back to the table to sit beside Isak.

“What happened to Nikolai?” Isak whispered. He did not want Eva to think about him more than she had to, but he remembered little from last night, the terror of it covering his memories thickly until they were shrouded in mystery.

Even stared at him for a long moment before slowly saying, “He was sent to the dungeons. I had some men take him for attempted murder and destruction of property. He is probably locked into the stocks right now.”

Isak was puzzled for a moment over what property Nikolai could have possibly destroyed until he realised, _I am the property._

“Will there be a trial?” Isak asked curiously, to distract himself from his lack of personhood that still shocked him even after living in this cold, cruel place for months.

“A trial?” Even repeated questioningly. “It is a strange day, _Lille Sol_ , when you know a word that I do not.”

Isak smiled shyly at the praise. He received few opportunities to teach Even, as young as he was, and every time he discovered something new that the other did not know, he felt unreasonably pleased with himself.

“Well,” Isak begun, “A trial to decide whether he is guilty or not?”

When Even stared back at him blankly he continued, “There must be some kind of council that decides these things?”

At his old village, there was a council of elders that had decided whether someone was guilty by hearing testimonies and reviewing evidence. It rarely happened in such a small village, in fact Isak could only recall one time. A travelling merchant had been accused of raping a young girl in their village. Isak hasn’t known her but he remembered the trial that followed. After her father and friends had testified, the merchant been hung from a tall tree outside the village where his body stayed for weeks until the crows had eaten their fill, leaving little more than bones. It was a gruesome affair, but it was just.

“Why would we need a council to determine whether one is guilty when he was found in my home with a knife to my thrall’s throat?” Even said, voice dark.

Eva placed a bowl between them pointedly, the sound of wood against wood interrupting the line of tension in Even’s shoulders.

“They don’t do that here,” Eva said shortly and Isak felt annoyed. Eva had never been the smartest as a child and now she was teaching him.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with it,” Even said firmly, “He’ll be held in the dungeons and hung at the nearest date.”

“Okay,” Isak said quietly, before sinking his cold hand into the gruel Eva had put between them. It tasted good and warmed his chilled body when he brought it to his mouth, but it wasn’t as warm as Even’s body had been against him.

As he ate, he could feel his eyes wander to Even’s big hands that were sinking into his own food, and wished they were in his mouth.

When he looked up, Even’s eyes met his and Isak looked away in embarrassment. But Even was never embarrassed, only resolute about what Isak needed. He pulled his chair back and patted one of his thighs.

“Come here,” he said, his voice heated. Isak tried not to look too eager as he pulled himself from his own chair and settled into Even’s lap. Based on Eva’s amused chuff, he did a poor job.

His entire body relaxed once he had the sure weight of Even behind him, protecting him from Eva’s judgemental eyes and the ghost of Nikolai’s presence that seemed to haunt the homestead.

“Is that better?” Even asked, his warm breath hot against Isak’s forehead as he pressed a kiss there.

Isak nodded shyly and allowed his pink lips to part as Even pressed gruel and meat between them, before wiping at the corners where some had spilt. It reminded him of the first time Even had fed him like this, Isak shaking in his lap like a leaf, sure that Even was going to violate him as they ate. Now, Even’s fingers in his mouth felt like safety.

They ate quietly, Even bringing a much larger handful of gruel to his own mouth before feeding Isak. Eva eventually sat down across from them with her own bowl, but she said nothing, her eyes downcast. The weight of last night’s events seemed to weigh on all of them, but Even’s bulk against Isak made it lighter.

When the bowl was empty, Even wiped his hand against his other thigh before bringing it back around Isak’s waist. After a pause he said, “I am going to go back to the village today. I’ve idled here long enough.”

“You have not been idling,” Isak protested, as he played with the collar of Even’s tunic. Even had been ill and the bed had been his prison, not a place to _idle_.

“In your eyes, _Lille Sol_ ,” Even said, voice warm as he ran his fingers through Isak’s hair, “But in the eyes of my men, every day spent holed up in the homestead with you is proof that I am weak.”

“Weak?” Isak said incredulously, “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“The only people you know are Eva and I,” Even said dryly but his eyes stayed fond at the compliment.

“You can rest for one more day,” Isak pleaded. He wanted to curl into Even’s arms, like he had done for the last few days, to hear his heartbeat against his ear and know that he was safe. That they were both safe. Even shook his head as he stroked Isak’s hair indulgently.

“I cannot,” he said finally, before sliding Isak off his knee, and standing. Isak watched him head back to his room to get dressed, with limpid eyes.

“Oh, don’t pout,” Eva said. “You didn’t really think he could laze about here forever, did you? He needs to go back or the men will think he’s weak. That display with Elias could only protect us for so long. Even Jonas asked me about where Even had gone off too, he’s so used to seeing him down at the village.”

“Jonas,” Isak said. It took the teeth of his mind a few seconds to slide into place and remember the priest. He’d only allowed himself to be thankful that Jonas was alive but he’d barely thought of him in between meeting Chris and caring for Even. “You’ve spoken to him?”

“Yes,” Eva said, her usually stern expression giving way to something Isak had only seen pointed towards him and Vilde: fondness. He smiled at the sight and Eva immediately schooled her face into one of indifference.

“He is kind and a good conversationalist,” she said petulantly, “So do not look at me like that.”

“I wasn’t looking at you like anything,” Isak said, still smiling.

Eva glared at him before collecting their bowls and walking towards the basin.

“Go say goodbye to your love before you worry about mine, Isak.”

Isak heard the shuffle of Even’s feet and the whine of broadaxe against stone. He was going back to the village. The thought should not have filled him with so much fear. Even was tall and strong; Isak hadn’t been lying when he said he was the strongest person he knew. But Isak had nursed him for days like a babe and he’d kept him safe, at least from his own mind. He couldn’t just forget that.

He followed the noise out in the front of the homestead where Even stood, towering over Isak in his wolfskins like the first night they met.

“You have your broadaxe,” Isak said accusingly, and Even smiled, a small thing that crinkled the corner of his eyes.

“I took what I needed in the early hours of the morning while you were sleeping,” he explained. “I apologise if I stepped on your toes, Keeper of the Armoury.”

“That’s right,” Isak said, a blush rising to his cheeks despite himself. “I am the Keeper of the Armoury and you need to ask me if you want to take anything from it.”

“Hmm,” Even said considering, his voice deep and smooth, “I didn’t ask to take this, _Lille Sol_.” He brandished the broadaxe that rested against his shoulder. “What would you have me do to apologise for that?”

Isak stepped forward and then up, so his bare feet were resting on top of Even’s bear skin boots.

“I’d ask for a kiss,” Isak said shyly before tilting his chin up. Even had been inside him more times than he could count but kissing him first always made him feel so heady. Thankfully, Even leaned forward and kissed him hard, closing the gap between them.

Isak whimpered when Even’s tongue pushed in between his limp open lips too soon, and then pulled away too early. His lips burned where Even had kissed him, but he wanted him to do it again.

“I have to go. Think of me and I’ll be home again before you realise I’m gone,” Even said. Isak rooted himself to Even like a tree but he easily wrapped big hands around his waist, sliding him off the top of his boots.

“Fine,” Isak said, even though it wasn’t okay and he’d have liked nothing more than to whine and cry like a babe until Even acquiesced and retired to bed with Isak.

Even pressed one parting kiss to the crown of his head before leaving, the heavy rise and fall of his boots sounding like goodbye.

Isak retired back to the kitchen, his heart sinking the further him and Even grew apart.

“I miss him,” Isak said sadly. “Without him here the homestead feels so empty.”

“By the Gods,” Eva snapped, “You’re pathetic. The both of you actually.”

Isak did not rise to the bait. As he leaned against the table all he could think of was the feeling of the cool wood against his warm cheek as Nikolai had taunted him about killing him and Even.

“I feel like Nikolai is still here,” Isak admitted quietly and Eva’s pinched expression turned somber.

“I do too,” she admitted. “But that isn’t reason enough to lose yourself in your own head. Even is fine. We’re both alive. Focus on that.”

“I can’t help my mind from wandering. Before I’d pray,” Isak reminisced. “The old church was a haven. But now it’s a pile of rubble and ash, just like anything else.”

“You can still pray,” Eva said helpfully, “But I don’t think any of our Gods can find us here.”

“Yes,” Isak agreed, “Only foreign Gods and monsters are here. And I don’t know much about either.”

His talk with Jonas, about his own God and the Holy Spirit, had been overshadowed by the bloodshed that followed after. But with his mind wandering and seeking guidance, he remembered it as clear as day.

“Would you take me to see Jonas?” Isak asked, and he had not even finished his question before Eva said, “No.”

Eva walked past him briskly, avoiding his eyes, until he stepped in front of her.

“Eva, please!” Isak begged, “You don’t know how aimless I feel. Surely, you can understand the need for prayer?”

“I don’t pray anymore,” Eva said coldly, but her face softened when she looked at Isak’s pleading expression.

“ _Fine_ ,” she snapped, “But we’re going straight to Jonas’s quarters, then back to the homestead. I won’t have you being taken up by some randy North man. Even can only cut off so many hands.”

Isak didn’t pay any mind to her jabs. Instead he went and fetched Even’s old bearskins. He most likely wore them as a boy but they fit perfectly on Isak and Eva who were smaller in stature and size.

“Come,” Eva said, clucking her tongue like a mother as she pulled a cap of fur over Isak’s curls and pulled the bearskins tighter across his exposed collarbone.

They set out onto the plains of ice and light. It was still early in the day and the field of white snow and sharp ice seemed less daunting for it

Isak hadn’t made the journey down to the village in many moons so his legs burned from exertion but Eva walked beside him, unbothered, so he didn’t dare complain. She made the journey at least weekly to fetch food and supplies for Even.

“Where is the holy man staying?” Isak asked after a long stretch of silence.

“He’s staying at Christine’s tavern,” Eva said. “She rents spare rooms to travellers but you can imagine not many come to this cursed place. At the moment I think it’s only him, Gods know why.”

They both grew silent as two North men passed them, bowing their heads so as not to draw attention to themselves. They had now entered the village and it was no place for thralls to make a spectacle, especially without Even to protect them.

Isak followed Eva as she trekked through the snow, until they walked up the familiar steps of the tavern. Isak could not help his stomach from sinking when they walked in and his eyes immediately fell on the spot where Even had been forced to pretend to molest him for the amusement of those beasts.

“Oh, this is a pleasant surprise!” Isak jumped when he heard the warm but loud voice of Christine. It was his only warning before she pinched one of his cheeks and pressed a kiss to it. Isak discreetly rubbed his cheek against the cloth of his shoulder when she turned to greet Eva who looked like she was about to start laughing.

“Hello, Christine,” Isak said, trying not to let his disdain show. “Do you know where we can find Jonas, the Holy Man?”

“Well, seeing as I have only one traveller staying here, and no one in the village would be so garish as to name their child something as ugly as _Jonas_ , I do know where you can find him,” Christine said.

Isak followed her cautiously as she led them up the stairs behind the counter and Eva shoved him forward, giggling when he stumbled.

“He should be here,” Christine said. “He’s usually up at dawn, waking the entire tavern with his praying. I’d kick him out if I didn’t need the coin.”

She rapped her knuckles against the chipped wood of the door and Isak could hear Jonas’s deep voice, muffled through the door.

“All yours then,” Christine patted Isak’s shoulder as she bumped past the two of them. She barely touched him but the brush of her hand on his shoulder felt as lecherous as a hand on his crotch.

“She’s quite...taken with you,” Eva said, tone mild even as her mouth twitched with the beginning of a smile.

“Oh, don’t start.”

Isak opened the door to the sight of Jonas, kneeling on the ground shirtless, his head bowed.

Isak blushed at the sight of his copper skin and the surprisingly strong line of his back before averting his eyes. The only men he’d ever seen shirtless were Even and Christoffer, and Jonas was markedly different from the both of them, both in colour and stature.

At the sight of them, Jonas sprung up from the floor and nearly ran to the small bed in the corner where his tunic lay.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I had guests. I thought it was just Christine and didn’t bother to dress.”

As he spoke his eyes stayed entirely on Eva, and Isak felt a prickle of annoyance when he recalled obvious Jonas’s lack of interest in him that night in the tavern. That didn’t seem to be a problem for Eva.

“Jonas,” Isak said, stepping forward in order to draw Jonas’s attention away from Eva. He noted smugly, when Jonas’s eyes lit up with recognition, that it worked. “It’s been awhile.”

“Isak,” Jonas said warmly. “It has. I’m happy to see you well.” Isak smiled, pleased that Jonas still remembered their conversation, despite his obvious infatuation with Eva.

“He was convinced you were being beaten and fucked to death by Even after he dismembered that brutish man,” Eva explained. “Even though I told him repeatedly that Even would never hurt you. I don’t think he’s so much as made you to lift a pot since you became his.”

Isak blushed, shamefaced at Eva’s description of how Even treated him. She made Isak sound like a beloved pet more than a lover. “I’ve lifted many pots,” he said pointedly. “And Eva did not lie; Even would never hurt me.”

“You cannot blame me for my assumptions,” Jonas protested. “After what he did to Elias, though of course that was just, and from what I’ve seen other North men do to their thralls, I feared for you. You’re both so young and weak. I did not know if you would survive whatever punishment he doled out on to you.”

Eva smiled bitterly and said, “You would be surprised at what these young and weak bodies have lived through.”

Her words were loaded and made Isak grow solemn. Jonas bowed his head in apology.

“You’re right, I misspoke. I only meant to say that I worried for you and the other thralls in the village. I’m happy that at least Even is kind to the two of you.”

His compliment to Even sounded like a tooth being pulled from its roots: hard to get out and reluctant.

“Thank you for the apology,” Isak said when Eva did not respond, her eyes hooded with old memories. “Though, I did not come to talk about Even today.”

“Oh?” Jonas said as he balanced on the edge of the single stool in the small room. “Then why did you come to speak to me?”

“God.”

Jonas leaned forward in interest, broad forearms resting on spread knees.

“You came to talk to me about _God_?”

Isak played with his fingers nervously as he thought of how to tell Jonas what he wanted. He didn’t want him to think he was fickle about faith or using his God for his own ends.

“Something happened that made me long for God, yes. Any God would do,” Isak admitted bluntly, hoping he didn’t offend Jonas. He didn’t react, however, so Isak continued.

“Nikolai came into the homestead last night.” Isak swallowed his throat dry as the events became clear in his mind again, like a painting, “He held a knife to my throat and said he’d murder me. Us. And he said he’d kill Even too.” Isak sniffed as he remembered Even’s confused and sleep worn face when he’d come across Isak huddled on the floor, his face white with horror as he had assumed the worst.

“I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything, and now even with him locked in the dungeons I feel so unsafe. Like he could be hiding around any corner ready to hurt me. And it’s not just Nikolai, it’s this entire village. I can’t -”

One of Jonas’s calloused hands firmly pulled his hand away from the thigh that he had been pinching nervously.

“It’s okay,” Jonas said, hands gentle. Isak watched the curve of his thumb trace shapes into his hand until his heart began to slow and the panic in his chest slowly became bearable again.

“Is this God’s will?” Isak asked numbly, “Is that why these things keep happening and no one seems to hear my prayers? I feel like it’s all hopeless. There are no Gods listening to us here.”

Jonas forwent the stool for the bed next to Isak, so he could wrap his arm around his shoulders.

“God is always listening,” Jonas said with a ferocity that didn’t seem to fit his size, “And nothing that happened last night was his will. Or your fault.”

 _Then why did he let any of this happen?_ Isak wanted to ask. _Why was I attacked? Why was Eva brutalised? Why is Sara dead?_

“I fear I’m going to fall asleep if I have to listen to you two crone about God and the like,” Eva said. Isak took it for the excuse it was and didn’t protest. She didn’t want to think about Nikolai more than she had to. Isak wished his mind was as resolute as hers.

“I’ll be downstairs in the tavern with Christine. Try not to take too long, Isak. Unlike you I have actual chores I need to do.”

Isak flushed at the jab even though he knew that Eva had only made it to gain some control over the situation. She always became mean spirited when she was feeling trapped. Thankfully, Jonas hadn’t noticed the comment, too busy staring after her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

Isak answered the unasked question. “Nikolai was her master, before Even. He mistreated her.” That was putting it kindly.

“Mistreated,” Jonas repeated. Isak let him draw his own conclusions. He’d seen how the other thralls were treated in the village.

“If I weren’t a man of God I would kill him for hurting her,” Jonas said and Isak watched his hands shake as he spoke with thinly veiled surprise.

“You really like her, don’t you?”

Jonas startled as though he had been caught doing something illicit, It made Isak laugh. Jonas seemed so mature and sure of himself to Isak, but when Eva was mentioned he turned into nothing more than a blushing boy.

“I don’t,” Jonas said, voice gruff. When Isak stared back at him incredulously he acquiesced and said, “I find her...pleasing to the eye. But it is a sin and proof of my own lack of faith. It’s this place and these people. The sin I’ve seen has made me soft. Weak. I’ve been praying on it, hoping for God to come to me and strike the desire from my heart but…” Jonas waved helplessly at the air in front of him, “Every time I think I’ve conquered it I see her again and it all comes back.”

“How can love make you weak?” Isak said, and despite himself, he felt his eyes grow damp with tears. This was the second time today that someone he cared for had called themselves weak. Isak rejected it from the core of his very being; only the strong could survive the harsh weather and people of the North.

“You’re so young,” Jonas said earnestly, but it sounded like condescension. “Things aren’t that simple. I’m a missionary and a priest. We’re not allowed to marry or love, our lives are dedicated to God.”

“I’m not _young_ ,” Isak spat out the word like a slur. “And that’s foolish. Is your God going to fuck you on his cock? Or allow you to fuck him? Will your God hold you at night? Only a person can do that.”

“Oh no,” Jonas began to laugh, his face a mixture of horror and shock, “You blaspheme so strongly for someone so sweet looking.”

“I have no idea what that means but thank you,” Isak said smugly, pleased that he had proven that he wasn’t young or sweet.

“You and Eva test me,” Jonas chuckled before sombering. “It is not right. I feel like God will abandon me soon If I continue idling away and falling victim to lust and...other vices.”

He did not elaborate on what those vices were but his eyes fell to Isak for a moment before he looked away.

“I need to bring myself closer to God,” Jonas said resolutely. He stood abruptly and picked up his discarded leather pouch. Isak watched him dig until he pulled out a pipe carved from wood and a glass jar full of an herb that he could smell, even from his perch on the bed.

“This green plant is going to bring you closer to God?” Isak sniffed the air suspiciously, “There are no Gods in this cold place. If there were, I doubt they’d come to you through such a smelly plant.”

“That’s how it’s meant to smell. It’s a plant I purchased in the hot Southern lands. It’s popular there with men of the local faith and I tried it once out of curiosity. I have never seen God as vividly as I did the very first time I smoked this.”

It stunk and didn’t look any more special than one of the various herbs Even kept in his kitchen, but Isak was enchanted by the way Jonas spoke of it.

He watched him with trepidation as he poured a small amount of the herb into a wooden pipe before he crouched down next to the small hearth in his room, lit a stick, and pressed it to the herb as it burned.

Isak’s nose wrinkled as the smell grew more pungent but Jonas didn’t seem to mind. He only pressed his lips to the pipe and begun to inhale before exhaling into the open air. His expression could only be described as bliss.

“Do you feel closer to God yet?” Isak asked teasingly but to his surprise, Jonas nodded slowly and said, “Yes.”

As he stared at Jonas’s calm face, Isak felt himself long for what Jonas had. Not his freedom or his body, but his connection with a God that he believed was listening. After being stolen away to Hålogaland, experiencing the threat of being brutalised various times, he had no faith left that any Gods were listening. But staring at Jonas’s face, he doubted for the first time in many moons, and wondered if maybe he had been wrong. Yes, the Gods of a small Jutland village could not find him here, but maybe a powerful Christian God could.

“I want to try,” Isak said before he could think of an excuse not to.

Jonas stared at him through red rimmed eyes and wordlessly passed his pipe to Isak, who held it carefully. He looked at Jonas’s relaxed face once more, before he began to inhale.

The smoke of the foreign plant burned through his mouth and had Isak turning into his shoulder and coughing loudly.

Jonas laughed at him but Isak’s throat was too sore to respond. Instead he inhaled again, and again, until his eyes burned and the image of the room and Jonas begun to swim.

“I feel good,” Isak said, and he did. He started to giggle at nothing in particular and Jonas followed suit, laughing in his deep rich voice that bounced off the walls. He could barely remember the ghosts that had plagued his mind before this. The memory of Nikolai seemed distant, like it had happened to someone else. All Isak could see and focus on was Jonas’s face and an all-consuming hunger that seemed to have overtaken him.

_Was this God?_

“Is your God here?” Isak asked lazily. He didn’t know what foreign Gods looked like and he wouldn’t be able to recognise one if he saw them. He looked around and lifted up Jonas’s pillow, as if he might be hiding under there.

Jonas begun to laugh again, this time clutching his stomach.

Isak’s eyes filled with tears. Jonas had a way of making him feel unbearably young and stupid. It was amplified after smoking the holy plant.

“Do not laugh at me!”

“Oh Isak,” Jonas finally quieted himself and stood up again. He tugged on one of Isak’s hands and pulled him to the spot where Isak had seen Jonas hunched over earlier.

“You cannot see my God, he comes to you in prayer, in your mind,”

“In my mind?!” Isak said, panicked now. The thought of someone, especially a God, reading his thoughts made him shiver with fright.

Jonas didn’t seem to share his concerns because he gently pushed Isak’s shoulder until he was bent over, his forehead pressed to the chilled wood of the floor.

“I don’t like this,” Isak pouted and sat on his hind legs so he was looking up at Jonas. “The floor is so cold.”

“Would you prefer to do this outside in the snow then?” Jonas asked with a flushed face, a great smile pulling at his lips, his giggles matching Isak’s until they were cut off.

Isak had a whine on the tip of his tongue when the door to Jonas’s room shook under the bang of three loud knocks. _It’s most likely Eva ready to demand that we go home so she can finish all her chores_ , Isak thought sourly.

“Go away Eva! We're praying.”

The knocking stopped before the door was flung open forcefully. The door knob audibly banged against the stone wall at the power behind it.

Even stood above the both of them, and he looked just as handsome as he had that morning with the exception of a few stray clumps of snow in his hair.

“Even!” Isak exclaimed happily as he uncurled his bent legs and stood up, before throwing himself into his arms. “You were wrong,” he sighed sadly. “I didn’t forget you were gone but I’m happy you’re back now. You’re so warm.”

Isak snuffled his way into the crook of Even’s neck and pressed his cold forehead there. It wasn’t cold like the floor had been and it made him moan in happiness.

If Isak’s eyes were a little less dry and a little less blurry, he would have noticed the dark expression on Even’s face when he had first opened the door to find Isak on his knees in front of Jonas. But they weren’t, so Isak curled into Even’s chest, unaware, even as Even closed the door of Jonas’s room behind him and carried Isak home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Mentions of dismemberment, Mentions of rape, Religion, Marijuana (Drug use), Period-typical Ableism.


	21. Ashes To The Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even makes a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the end of the chapter for trigger warnings (these include spoilers.)

**Chapter 20 - Ashes To The Ground**

_I was choking in the crowd_

_Living my brain up in the cloud_

_Falling like ashes to the ground_

_Hoping my feelings, they would drown_

_But they never did, ever lived, ebbing and flowing_

_Inhibited, limited_

_Till it broke up and it rained down_

_It rained down like pain_

[Believer, Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wtfhZwyrcc)

 

**Even**

Isak was almost a deadweight in Even’s arms when he carried him back to the homestead. Occasionally he would press into his neck, trying to find exposed skin there, giggling sweetly when his lips made contact, but Even could take no pleasure from it. He was furious, his body tense, urging him to fight.

Twice, Even had to stop in order to adjust Isak’s awkward position, and rebrace his own arms; Isak was undeniably heavier than he had been when he’d come to the North, which was generally a good thing as he had been a skinny, ill-prepared waif of a boy back then. He was not so heavy that Even could not pick him up now, but the foul plant fumes that the Holy Man had plied him with had left his body sluggish and cumbersome, and Even struggled to contain him in his arms.

Eva had attempted to go unnoticed by Even in the tavern, safe in Christine’s indulgent company, but when she saw how angry he was, one last furious glare behind him as he had raised an eyebrow at her, she had followed them sheepishly back through the village, silent the whole way.

Once back in the warmth of the homestead, Even carried Isak to the bedroom and all but threw him onto the bed; Isak giggled again, wholly unaware of Even’s dark mood, and then spread his legs wide, eyes clouding over.

“Take me, lover.”

“You are in no fit state,” Even grumbled, reaching for a blanket to cover Isak with.

“But I _need_ you,” Isak whined, wrestling with the blanket, resisting the slumber that Even was trying to induce him into. “I need your strong arms around me, and-”

“Isak, I said you are in no fit state.”

His voice was clipped, short, and Isak must have picked up on that because he fell silent, but there did not appear to be any fear or remorse in his features. He merely sighed grumpily under his breath and burrowed down into the softness of the blanket.

“Did he hurt you?” Even asked, reaching for Isak’s face, and Isak batted his hands away.

“No, he is a very… _gentle_ man,” Isak replied, the benign words causing him to giggle again. “Such gentle hands...”

Even felt himself grow angrier still. Despite all he had been through, Isak was still so innocent, so trusting. Even had assumed Jonas was pious, or at the very least celibate, as seemed to be the way with these strange new religious types that called themselves Christians, but instead the dark haired stranger had taken advantage of Isak at the first opportunity he had received.

The sight of Isak on his knees, his mind soft and pliant with substances from another land, about to be forced by another man so soon after Nikolai, had made Even’s blood stir and his hackles rise, like the wolf he was. In that moment he knew with clarity that he would kill Jonas, but he had not been able to do so there and then. He had murdered one stranger already in front of Isak’s eyes, and Eva had taken the first steps towards ending Nikolai’s life as Isak had watched and wept. He did not wish to traumatise the boy further.

Even had paid Jonas no real mind before, but now he grasped every last detail of him, painting a picture in his mind of this master deceiver who had almost succeeded in taking Isak from him. Who would maybe still try, if Even did not do something on this day.

Isak was asleep now, his breath warm against Even’s hand when Even cupped his chin, placing his lips against his forehead for a soft kiss. He had sworn to protect Isak, even when Isak did not know he was in need of protecting. He would not falter now.

When Eva came out to the main annex of the homestead, Eva was watching him warily, her expression repentant.

“Even-”

“I do not wish to hear your excuses, Eva,” he snapped. She looked upset, opening her mouth to speak again, but Even pulled on his wolfskins and headed back out into the cold, retreading the same path down to the village, each step purposeful with intent.

He had drawn his broadaxe by the time he reached the tavern, his head swimming with visions of the Holy Man split bloodily in two. He stomped through the door, alerting all who were drinking in there of his presence, and he made his way towards the stairs that led up to the back of the tavern when the sturdy figure of Christine blocked his path.

“Where are you going, Even?”

“Get out of my way, woman,” Even snapped. “You know what this is about.”

“I do, which is why I am telling you to turn back around and leave. I will not have any blood spilt in this tavern. Well, no more than is polite, anyway.”

“You let my thrall spend time with that… that _predator_. I should be holding you personally responsible!” He grit his teeth and said bluntly, “Now move.”

“You will need to put that axe through me first!” Christine told him with equal ferocity. “I am not in the mood for ridiculous male posturing today or any day.”

Even took a step back, attempting to steady himself. He was not going to assault Christine, let alone put an axe through her. This was sheer madness. He could feel eyes on him, appraising him, muttering about what his next move would be now that the tavern mistress had denied him, and he stalked away, back to the ale-soaked benches that lined the room. He took a seat on one of them, placing his axe beside him.

“If you will not let me past, at least serve me some ale,” he said darkly. Christine nodded at Kasper who had been watching the argument with an anxious expression; he now hurried forward with a goblet of ale and put it in front of Even before hurrying back to the kegs.

Even drank in silence, ruminating. He kept his eye on the stairs leading upwards, but Christine did not move from there over the course of the next three ales that Even downed. Eventually, his presence drew the company of William, Christoffer, Fredrik and Knut who slid into the seats next to him, amused expressions on their faces.

With the strong tavern ale muddling his thoughts, Even found himself remembering that several of the North men had complained about Jonas during training, and those that sat here with him were all of the shared opinion that Jonas was a menace. Many men were alarmed at how easily Jonas had ingratiated himself within the village. He was popular with the women folk, seduced by his easy smile and thick accent, his dark, intelligent eyes, and of course his honeyed words.

Even’s fingers flexed near to the handle of his broadaxe, wishing for nothing more than to use it. _Patience_ , he told himself. _There may be an easier way to achieve this task._

Christoffer was the first to speak, his curiosity of Even’s affairs still abundant despite all that had happened between them. ‘What is this about, Berserker?”

Even looked up across the pretty North man, raising an eyebrow.

“It cannot just be me that wishes to see this... _missionary…_ or whatever he calls himself, sent to whatever his version of _Hel_ is?” Even asked, and that caught their attention. He watched as William, Knut, Christoffer and Fredrik looked at him questioningly, Fredrik nodding a little as if to say _go on_.

“He has gone too far,” Even continued. “I paid him no mind when he was simply trying to spread his own personal word of his God; if anything, his bravery and dedication in coming to this far flung province was to be commended. But I feel he now presents a risk to the fairer folk in the village, and I will not stand for it.”

“Is this about your thrall?” William asked. “Has he been attempting to spread his legs for another man since you warned off Christoffer?” Knut and Fredrik snorted at that, Christoffer at least having the good grace to blush slightly, as Even clenched his teeth tightly before answering.

“Judging by the whispers of your wife and my other thrall, Eva, it is not just Isak that he has been impressing, Magnusson.”

William stared back at him coldly but Even knew he saw the truth in his words.

“Sonja is most taken with him, too. And that idiot Magnus acts as his most ardent follower, recommending him to each and every woman in the village for personal ‘prayer’ time,” Kunt spat out in disgust. “He is a pest. One that needs to be stamped out.”

“They say that these Christian folk use enchanted words to convert to their cause,” Christoffer said. “I have heard him in the tavern at night, singing pretty songs of a foreign tongue; the women flock to him, and he welcomes them all. Even Christine is said to be making Kasper a cuckold under his own roof.”

“Sounds like he is given you competition, Penetrator,” Fredrik joked, causing Christoffer to scowl at him.

“So why not just kill him yourself, Berserker?” William questioned. “I assume you saw his methods of seduction with your own eyes? Is that not why you have come here so recklessly? Nobody would challenge you for killing a foreigner.”

“Oh, I am happy to kill him myself, as soon as I have the chance,” Even replied. “I would not trust any of you to get the job done.” He saw William bristle at that. “He cannot hide in that room forever.”

“We are more than capable of killing an unarmed man who believes that words rather than weapons will protect his life,” Knut said darkly. Even stared at him challengingly and knocked back another large mouthful of ale. If these men wished to kill Jonas, he would consider this a victory. Even took no pleasure or pride in the killing of men, he never had. And there were some small doubts at the back of his mind; Isak’s eyes clouding with the sting of betrayal, no matter how justified Jonas’s death might be.

They were interrupted in that moment by Eva entering the tavern, her hair whipping in her face as she knelt down next to Even, lowering her voice. Even was conscious of the disapproving glances at her from William and Knut, so he pulled her close as she whispered, “Isak is very distressed, are you going to come home soon?”

He looked at the four men around him and knew he had said enough, though he had said very little, for their harsh words and threats against Jonas to become a reality. He nodded at them, rose to his feet and said, “Hopefully the issue will be resolved before daybreak tomorrow.”

“It will be done,” William said certainly. “You do not need to lack faith in our ability, Berserker.”

Even nodded and left the tavern, Eva following close behind.

 

* * *

 

For the third time that day he made his way up to the homestead, this time unburdened by the weight of Isak in his arms. Eva was quiet on the way, her expression weary, as though the back and forth nature of Isak and Even’s relationship was insufferable to her. In that moment, Even found himself agreeing.

He was surprised to find Isak wide awake when he entered the bedroom, his body stripped naked apart from his leggings, sprawled invitingly across the bed. He looked at Even with his forest green eyes and whispered, “I missed you.”

“You are feeling more like yourself?”

Isak blushed at that. “Yes, I am feeling fine, thank you.”

Even walked closer to the bed and he saw Isak shrink away from slightly, as if in fear, but Even realised the emotion was closer to embarrassment. “You were reckless, Isak. And I am at a point where I cannot continue to ignore this tendency you have for seeking out danger.”

“Danger?” Isak scoffed. “What danger?”

“Do I really need to spell it out to you?” Even asked. “You willingly went to a stranger’s room. Smoked some foul substance which left you exposed, vulnerable. Knelt down before him and-”

“I was never in any danger!” Isak said hotly. “Jonas is a man of God, he would not take advantage of me or hurt me.”

“You truly believe that? After all you have been through here?” Even asked, and he could not stop the frustration from creeping into his voice, tempering it with anger. “You know what men are like, Isak!”

“I know what men of the North are like,” Isak replied bitterly. Even felt the sting of humiliation at the insinuation, knowing Isak had said it to hurt him. He steeled himself, refusing to let Isak twist the situation.

“You disobeyed me,” Even said simply. “If nothing else, even if you are too naive to see that Jonas meant to take advantage of you, you deliberately put yourself in the hands of another man when you are mine and mine alone.”

“I am _not_ property,” Isak replied angrily. He crawled from the bed, making for the door, but Even placed himself in between, Isak slamming his fists against Even’s chest, attempting to shove him away, before pacing back to the other side of the room. “Get out of my way, Even. You cannot treat me like this!”

“I am your master,” Even reminded him. “Out there in the village, if people see you as not belonging to me, they will claim you for yourself.”

 _Just as Nikolai attempted_ , Even thought to himself, repressing a shudder at the memory. _I cannot allow this to happen again._

“In the village, yes. But we are at home, and you should not use those words here,” Isak said, knocking the desperate thoughts from Even’s head.

“And why not?” Even asked. He attempted to approach Isak who glared at him warningly. “You _do_ belong to me. And you continue to defy me, so it is time I made you see that your actions have consequences.”

Isak looked confused by this, until Even sat on the edge of the bed and told him, “Over my knee, Isak.”

Even was not committed to the idea of spanking Isak. His own father had done it occasionally, and it had shown Even boundaries but no pleasure. And yet he saw no other way to chastise his lover. He knew Isak made him soft, and though he enjoyed that, when there was no threat to the two of them, on those days where Isak was safe in his arms, the bed rocking gently beneath them, he knew it was also a worry. There was always a response to softness in the North, and it was always swift and brutal.

“Isak, I said over my knee.”

“I heard you,” Isak said, his face twisting in fury. “And I am trying my hardest not to swear all the curses I know at you right now.”

“Swear all you like, this is necessary.”

“I am not a child!”

“And yet you have the recklessness and ignorance of a child,” Even shot back. Isak looked scandalised by that, and Even watched him retreat further still, until he was on the other side of the room. _This is farcical_ , he thought to himself. He was not going to force Isak over his knee, the boy needed to accept why it was necessary. And yet Even knew he would be remiss if he did not insist harder. He rose to his feet and started towards Isak, his hand outstretched,.

“This is for your own good,” he said. “I have been very gentle with you but now-”

He yelled, his words coming to a stop, when the small wooden horse he had first acquired for Isak came hurtling towards him. He dodged it easily and Isak stood there, burning with fury, chest heaving with anger.

“I will _never_ willingly go over your knee!” Isak insisted throatily, before picking up a clay jug and throwing that across the room. Again, Even dodged it and it shattered to the floor in pieces; this was quickly followed by a bowl which met a similar demise.

“You are hardly doing much to convince me you are not a child!” Even said, trying to move towards Isak, missing the tray that spinned towards him but not moving quickly enough to prevent a cup from hitting him square on the forehead. He growled with annoyance, grabbing Isak’s wrists to prevent him from finding more objects to hurtle at him.

“Don’t touch me, I am angry with you!” Isak protested. Even’s hand found his ass and he made to move his hand down in a sharp slap when Isak’s angry screams stayed his hand. Even instinctively went to move away until he realised he needed to calm Isak down.

And so he held him close, arms wrapped around his shoulders, until the heavy breathing had subsided slightly. When he looked properly he saw genuine fear in Isak’s eyes and he swallowed sharply, doubting himself.

“I do not know what to do, Isak,” he confessed. “I cannot keep finding you in danger. I cannot be afraid for your life constantly. I cannot-”

“Can we lay on the bed?” Isak asked, interrupting him. Even saw his eyes shining with emotion and he nodded, following Isak’s lead as the boy moved to the bed and climbed onto it, meeting Even’s gaze with a ragged breath and a quick nod.

“I feel safe here,” Isak said, and Even nodded, “But only here. In this bed. Everywhere else I go, I feel the… the presence of all the bad things that have happened here, in this place. That continue to happen here.”

Even understood that, and he acknowledged it with a gentle touch to Isak’s cheek, his fingers brushing against the bone of it. The bed had always been a refuge for him during the dark times, when nothing felt certain.

“You are safe in my care,” Even assured him after a time. “But only if you listen to what I say, and-”

“I am my own person!” Isak said, voice rising in frustration, and Even fell silent, not wishing to provoke him again. “I need to… to feel at peace, here, in this place. And I feel it when I’m with you but it’s not always enough.”

Even could tell the words were cathartic for Isak to say. Neither of them in the past had been particularly eloquent at voicing their fears, their feelings for one another, and now it seemed as though Isak’s barriers had been breached, and all Even saw on his face was desperation to make his thoughts known.

“Jonas made me feel at peace,” Isak whispered, and Even felt himself tense at that, ready to change the conversation, when Isak shook his head preemptively. “No, _listen_ , Even. He did. My mother was very religious. But the Gods… the Gods that she believed in, which everybody I have ever met believe in… they are of no comfort to me. They have let terrible things happen to me, and to the people I love.”

“It is not our place to question the Gods’ actions,” Even said with an uncertainty he’d never felt.

“Why?” Isak asked, with a genuine tone of confusion in his voice. “They are all powerful, they are supposed to wreak vengeance on the unjust. Yet they allowed Eva to be raped repeatedly by a monster. They allowed Sara to be killed by another monster. They tormented my mother until she took her life. And it was no God that stopped Nikolai from taking my life. That was Eva.”

“And you think Jonas’s ‘God’ is any better?” Even questioned. Isak shook his head.

“No. But Jonas offered something else. He made me see: our Gods, they are not everyone’s Gods. And he has not been struck down, or murdered, for spreading the word of his God here. So perhaps it means that our Gods are not the powerful beings we imagine them to be?”

Even found himself looking away from Isak’s intense gaze, remembering his final conversation with the North men, and their promise to take Jonas’s life. A feeling of doubt began to creep upon him and he tried to quell it with objections.

“You may have taken some form of comfort from Jonas, but when he tried to hurt you, to force you into something against your will, how would you have felt then?”

“Jonas wouldn’t have done that,” Isak said, with genuine amusement in his voice. “He is in love with Eva.”

Even was taken aback by that. “Well, that does not mean-”

“Even, I attempted to… to seduce him, in a way, the night you killed his companion. I only wanted to make you jealous, but Jonas did not once look at me in that way. Believe it or not, not all men wish to fuck me.”

“I did not-” Even huffed out a breath, “I did not mean to imply that. But you were on your knees in front of him, and-”

“I was _praying_ ,” Isak retorted. “Or at least trying to. I was…” He blushed prettily. “Whatever it was he gave me, it was a mistake, yes. I imagined his God in my mind, and I wanted to appease it. But Jonas was not forceful or rough with me. It was…” Isak smiled, and then began to laugh softly, “It was funny, if anything. I haven't laughed or felt quite so free in a while.”

“You truly do not believe he meant to hurt you?” Even asked. “He was… he made you feel at peace?”

“Yes. And I needed that, after Nikolai-” Isak cut himself off, not able to bring himself to say it. “He is a good man, Even. I do believe you’d like him, if you had the chance to speak with him properly.”

Even pulled away, feeling uncomfortable, his skin prickling under his heavy tunic. He realised now, in a heartbeat, how irrationally he had been acting since finding Isak in the bedroom of the tavern. What had appeared to be another threat to Isak had simply been a misunderstanding.

And not only that. A misunderstanding which had led to him attempting to kill a man who had given Isak comfort at a time he had needed it most.

 _You need not lack faith in our ability_ , William had told him, as his eyes had gleamed with the promise of Jonas’s death.

Even brought a hand to his mouth, suppressing the shudder that threatened to take his body.

 _There will be no appeasing these men now, even if they have not yet got to Jonas_ , he realised.

He rose to his feet as Isak propped himself up by the elbows, looking confused.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked innocently. “You… you are still angry at me?”

Even shook his head and leant forward to kiss Isak softly. “I am never angry with you, _Lille Sol_.”

Isak smiled and nodded, resting his head back onto the pillow, and Even stumbled out of the room, his mind troubled with dark thoughts.

He did not know if he could fix this. He had played at being underhand, of bidding others to do his dirty work. He had set the wheels in motion, made ruthless North men thirsty for the blood of a foreigner. And now the man who Isak spoke so highly of had a death sentence over his head that would not easily be lifted, even by Even’s cleverest words.

After they had buried Nikolai, Eva had spoken so hopefully about the difference Even could make to this village. The capacity for goodness that he could show them. And for a moment, he had believed himself capable. He had believed that he could shake off years of concealed laughter, hissed and underhand taunts, and the whispered gossip surrounding his parents’ deaths.

 _You are no better than any of them_ , Even thought numbly. He pulled on his wolfskins, heading for the door. Under her breath, he heard Eva mutter, “Again?”

 _Again_ , Even repeated to himself. _Again and again until I fix this bloody situation and prove myself a man worthy of Isak’s love._

He hoped his plan, and his ability to pull it off, matched the resolve in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Discussion of murder, Attempted domestic discipline (spanking), Brief assault, Religion.


	22. Under The Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even betrays Isak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the end of the chapter for trigger warnings (these include spoilers.)

**Chapter 21 - Under the Water**

_We are not alive_

_We are surviving every time_

_We are not alive_

_Only dreams inside our minds_

[Under the Water, AURORA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKYt4PehnbE)

 

**Isak**

The next morning, Isak woke to the known but unfamiliar feeling of cold seeping into his bones. He had woken this way hundreds of times before, alone with only a thin blanket to warm him, his Mama nowhere in sight.

He knew this feeling. He just hadn’t known it for some time. Now, he was so used to the feeling of Even’s warm solid bulk pressing him down into the bearskins below, that the absence of his body made him shiver.

His mind was still clouded with the remnants of Jonas’s foreign plant and it made him rub at his eyes uncertainly, scanning the empty room again as if it would make Even appear like a vision.

“Even?” He called out, voice raspy. His only answer was silence and Isak could not help the feeling of discontent that settled in his belly at the sound of it. Even always said goodbye to him. Even all those moons ago, when Isak hid from him in the corners of their homestead, from fear. Now that they shared a bed, Even never left him without a kiss to his lips or brow and if he was feeling tender, a whispered, ‘I love you, _Lille Sol_.’

Isak slid his long legs out from under his quilt, trembling when his warm toes touched the frozen wooden floor.

The homestead was freezing, and Isak realised why when he stepped into the main annex of the house and saw that the hearth had not been lit.

“Eva, are you awake?” Isak yelled, and he heard a delicate sniffle that could only be her. She sat at the table, her head held in her hands as she wiped at her runny nose.

“You’re freezing too, aren’t you?” Isak asked as his teeth chattered, “You forgot to light the hearth, silly girl.”

Eva stood on unsteady feet, pulling her hands from her face, and then Isak realised her nose wasn’t running from the cold, it was running because she was in tears.

It had always been terrifying to see Eva cry. Not because she was a woman, though that was part of it, but because it was in such a stark contrast to her usual mask. Strong and hardy with the edge of a kind smile. Now, her face was screwed up and ugly, tears staining her ruddy face, making the wisps of new hair cling to her wet cheeks.

“Eva,” Isak, whispered urgently, stepping close and cupping her face, “What happened?”

Eva only shook her head, a wretched cry gurgling in her throat like an animal that was being gutted.

“Eva!” Isak said again. He could feel tears begin to cloud his own vision at the sight of her obvious distress.

_Was it Nikolai?_

His eyes darted around the room in fear at the dark thought but nothing dangerous stood out, despite how odd this entire moment felt.

 _Nikolai is being held in the village jail_ , Isak reminded himself. He could not be here. Even would kill him before he let him near either of them again, much less in the homestead.

But where was Even? Him vanishing after he had spoken to Isak so kindly the night before, and then leaving Eva upset, didn’t make any sense.

“Eva, where is Even?” Isak asked, shaking her shoulders slightly to quell her tears and catch her attention. It seemed to work because Eva’s weeping slowed until she looked almost placid.

She inhaled and exhaled rapidly before wiping her face and shrugging off Isak’s hands, composing herself.

Isak waited with bated breath for her to tell where Even had gone and what had happened but instead she said, “Eskild came by.”

Isak eyed her impatiently, the feeling of dread rising the longer Eva stared at him with her cold wet eyes.

“He wanted to know whether Even was still suffering from his affliction. And whether we had given him his medicine.”

“And?” Isak demanded, circling the table to stand across from her. He feared that if he stood too close, he’d shake her again for answers. “I don’t understand why this matters Eva. You and I both know Even’s affliction has passed, at least for now. Where is he?”

Eva ignored his question and said, “I asked Eskild why he would come all the way to our homestead to ask such a question and he told me that Even had done a… a terrible thing.”

Eva’s tears returned anew and she swiped at her eyes to hide them but Isak could feel himself start to panic.

“What did he do?” Isak whispered, his own breath coming out in short panicked spurts that were reflected back like smoke in front of him due to the chill of the homestead.

His mind painted images of Even bringing his broadaxe down on his soft wrists while Isak slept soundly in their bed. Or walking off one of the white peaks that surrounded the village, lost to the demons in his own mind.

Eva had begun to cry again, but this time silently. Her face was blank as the tears fell.

“He killed him.”

Isak could not stop the way his entire body uncoiled when Eva said, ‘him’ and not ‘himself.’

He felt wretched for feeling only joy as Eva cried, but how could he care about a phantom man when his Even still walked the earth?

“Who did he kill?” Isak asked, trying to hide the relief in his voice, for Eva’s sake. She did not care for many people and it would be cruel of him to show happiness while she grieved.

“Jonas.”

Isak’s heart stopped for a moment.

“Jonas,” he repeated slowly, like Eva had misspoken and she would correct herself. But she only nodded and Isak knew. He knew there had been no mistake in the understanding between them.

“No.”

Eva looked up at him, taken by the hardness of his voice.

“Even did not kill Jonas.” Isak said it firmly like that  would make it true, “He would not, not -”

Not after last night. Not after Isak had revealed the most intimate parts of himself to Even. Not the heat between his legs or the wetness of his mouth, but his fears and his faith. He had told Even of the peace Jonas had brought him. Even had understood. He _must_ have understood that.

Hot tears filled Isak’s eyes as he thought of Jonas’s kind words and his gentle hands that did not want to break, hurt, or abuse him. He could not believe that Even would hurt such a person, or the fragile world he had constructed for himself would crumble.

“He did, Isak!” Eva yelled and Isak flinched sharply. Eva was lost to rage now, her tears turning into ice.

“Do you know how Eskild knew?!”

She did not give Isak the chance to guess.

“He burned his body and hung it in the town square for the crows and the beasts down in the village to gawk at!”

Isak’s stomach lurched and before he could breathe, he found himself gagging, spit sliding down his chin. The memory of the burning church was distant now, made insignificant by the months of strife and blood and followed. But his body still remembered the smell of the burning. The burning of the elderly and the sick. Even now, he could taste their ashes in his mouth.

He had no right to gag and cry, he thought bitterly, It was not his Mother that had perished in that church.

Eva looked like a woman possessed as she milled around the kitchen, tossing pots and bowls to the ground while angry tears leaked from her red eyes.

Isak could only feel a sliver of her rage, but it was enough to have him crossing the kitchen and going to the cupboard with one goal in mind.

He needed to see Even.

He could still hear Eva rattling about but after a moment, she followed him to the door, her bosom still heaving with barely restrained anger.

“Isak,” she said sharply. “Where are you going?”

Isak did not answer her, already pulling on Even’s bearskins onto his quaking shoulders. He only wore his delicate sleeping tunic and leggings underneath but his anger brought upon him a sense of urgency that resisted a spare moment to change.

“Isak!” she yelled as he pushed past her. She looked worried now, the anger ebbing from her face to show concern.

“What are you doing?” she asked, tugging on his arm. This time he shrugged her off, rougher than he intended, making her back smack against the wall.

The sound made Isak pause and Eva stare at him in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Isak said, at a loss. He expected Eva to slap him, and he would deserve it, but she just stared at him like he was a stranger. Instead of a slap or a shove, Eva hugged him. His arms hung by her waist like cloth on a hook, before he came to life and held her in return.  

He was the one who had trusted Even and the one who had begged Eva to take him to see Jonas. The guilt he felt now was heavy. It felt like the weight of Even’s body on top of his, fucking him into the bed every night while he plotted to kill an innocent man.

 _This is all my fault_ , Isak realised.

Eva looked even more perturbed when he reluctantly pulled himself from her arms and opened the door.

“Stay here,” he warned her. “Please, do not follow me, Eva. I need to do this. I will never know peace if I do not do this.”

“No, Isak,” she said. “You don’t need to go. Please, stay here with me!” Isak ignored her pleas and quickly ran outside, the cold air burning his already cold cheeks.

“ _I_ _sak_!”

He did not allow himself to look back at Eva as he crossed the icy dunes that were laid out in front of him. His limbs were stiff and slow, like he was walking through water, but he forced them to keep moving.

The wind was strong today and every gust of it felt like a lash upon the exposed flesh of his face.

It was fitting. He deserved to be whipped for what he had done to Jonas. If he had not been selfish, Jonas would still be alive right now. And if he had been strong enough to stop himself from loving a brutish man like Even, his heart would still be whole.

Tears began to trickle from the corners of his eyes the longer he walked. He allowed himself to pretend they were from the cold, and nothing else.

He found the familiar stone path. It was covered in ice and snow, but Isak knew it led to the village nonetheless. He saw passing villagers give him curious and even angry looks when they saw his face and recognized him for who and what he was. Even’s prized thrall daring to walk alone without Even or a companion in sight.

 _Even’s property,_ Isak corrected himself. Isn’t that what Even had called him the night before? Perhaps that was why he had killed Jonas. Because he never saw Isak as a person, only has his property.

He was not property. He was made of flesh and blood, not wood and metal. He felt pain and he loved, too much at times, if the love he still felt for Even, despite what he had done, was any indication. But Isak felt none of those things in that moment, only all-encompassing rage.

He had never been a fighter, but he marched into the village square like a North man on a raid, with single-bodied purpose.

No one paid him any mind now that he was hidden amongst the crowd of villagers. They milled about, ignoring him, as they chattered excitedly. It reminded Isak of Jolablot and of the events that had followed. _You can never trust the things that excite the beasts of this village_ , he thought darkly.

Isak pushed through the crowd and that’s when he saw it. The attraction that had captivated the villagers.

It was a body. It had been hung by its neck from a large wooden stake with a coarse piece of leather. Isak refused to call the body Jonas. It was burnt down to the bone, blackened and crisp, the skin barely clinging to its shell. This was not a person, not anymore.

Isak saw that a crude plaque with clumsy Futhark characters had been nailed to the base of the stake and it read:

_Jonas The Holy Man, Fucker of Wives and Thralls and New Resident of Hel_

This...this was all wrong.

Isak had to twist the numb skin of his arm through his bearskins to stop himself from crying. It was safe in Eva’s arms and hidden under the winds of the North, but not here. He would not cry in front of these monsters.

He forced himself to look away from the body to search the crowd for Even. He loomed over Isak but so did most of the villagers. Isak cursed with annoyance and pushed himself to the edge of the crowd to get a wider view. That’s when he saw him. He stood amongst a group of North Men that Isak was familiar with. William, Knut, and of course, Christoffer. Isak knew Christoffer did not owe him anything but he felt the distinct sting of betrayal when Christoffer looked up at Jonas’s body and laughed before elbowing William in jest.

Finally, Even turned to face him and Isak caught a glimpse of his face. He did not look amused like the other North Men who circled Jonas’s body, but he did not look sad either.

He looked...indifferent.

Isak saw Even’s face everyday but seeing him like this, blankly staring at the body of an innocent dead man, he looked like a stranger.

Isak’s trance was interrupted when one of the villagers threw something putrid that narrowly missed his head. It hit the charred body above with a sick splat. Isak realised it was a rotten egg.

The crowd laughed and some others joined in, throwing whatever they could find. A clump of mud from the ground, a stone, a piece of wood.

Isak’s eyes stung with tears as he watched the debasement of someone he had called his first friend in the village. This was not right, none of it was. He desperately looked across the square one last time for any inkling of humanity on Even’s face but he looked as if he were staring at a wall, and not the humiliation of a good man.

Damn him. Damn him and all the Gods that let this happen, including Jonas’s.

Isak has been right before. No Gods could find them in this cold unholy place. There were no Gods, all he had was himself. Nobody, and no force, was going to right this wrong and pull Jonas’s body down, so Isak would have to do it himself.

He elbowed his way through the villagers, uncaring of the sharp shoves he received in turn, until he was at the head of the crowd, in front of the stake holding up the body. _Jonas’s_ body.

He tried not to vomit at the stench as he bent down at the base of the stake and began to pull to dislodge it from the frozen earth. The people behind him began to yell in protest and he winced when a stone that was meant to be lobbied at Jonas, hit the soft skin of his scalp.

He was tense as he worked, expecting another rock or perhaps a broadaxe through his back for his rebellion. Instead, he felt strong hands on his waist pulling him up and away from the stake. He screamed, “Get away!” and attempted to wriggle out of the firm grip, but the words died in his throat when he turned around and he saw who the hands belonged to.

“What are you doing here?” Even asked, showing the first emotion Isak had seen on his face during this entire ordeal. He looked worried. Isak did not want him to be worried for him, he wanted him to be sorry.

“What am I doing?” Isak repeated, his voice cold. He shoved Even away from him and he saw William and Knut still from the corner of his eyes. His fists hurt from the strength it had taken to shove Even but he wanted to do it again.

“ _What have you done!_?” Isak yelled and he gave into his most base impulse and hit Even again. It bruised his soft hands but it hurt the tenderest parts of himself more. He felt like he was hurting himself, like this was penance.

Despite his earlier resolve not to cry, he could not stop himself from wailing, loud and unashamed in his grief.

“How could you do this?” Isak asked, quieter now, his voice only reserved for Even’s ears.

Even looked struck as he stared down at him, his face pained in a way that Isak could not understand.

“Tell me!” Isak cried and he moved forward to shove Even again. His whole body lurched as he felt calloused fingers wrench his arms back, immobilising him. His cry was full of pain and panic as he was wrestled to the ground.

Pressed into the snow by someone’s bulk and with sharp pain shooting through his body, Isak could only see the boots of the North Men and hear their voices from above.

“I have never seen such blatant disobedience from a thrall,” someone spat. Isak cringed away when the spittle landed near his face but he could not move away, “Is this how you let him treat you in your homestead, _Berserker_? Like his little wife. Tell us, does he fuck you too?”

The men laughed at that and Isak’s eyes burned with humiliated tears. William’s bored countenance quieted them. “I would have my thrall flogged for such a display.”

Even’s deep voice cut him off, “I do not need advice from anyone, much less you, on disciplining my thrall, William.”

William did not protest and Isak allowed himself to relax into the snow and let it numb him. As angry as he was with Even, he still trusted that he would not let these brutes hurt him.

“Don’t you, Even? You can’t have the little bitch thinking he can treat you like that. One thrall starts getting ideas, then all of them follow. Your thrall did not start acting like this over night. You have made him disobedient.”

Isak yelped as he was dragged upwards by his arms and shaken like a doll. When he saw who was holding him he felt himself shiver in disgust. Björn, the North man who had raped Sara during the raid and then abused her until she had died, was the one who held him, his face still puffed out and bruised from where Even had attacked him.

He cried out in shock as he was grabbed again like a toy, but this time it was up and into Even’s arms. He only caught a glimpse of Even’s face before he was thrown over his shoulder like a sack. But every inch he saw was of the Berserker. Even was nowhere in sight.

“You think I can’t discipline my own thrall?” Even asked, his voice cold. Isak could not see his face but the iciness made him shiver and huddle into the warmth of his back and shoulder. “This was the reason I killed the Holy Man. Because he bewitched my thrall with his words, made him act out like this. Now he is gone, and under my firm hand, the poison will start to drift from his mind.”

Isak was disgusted by the words. _Poison_? Jonas had fed him no poison, real or imaginary. He had been one of the few antidotes to the poison that infested this village.

The North Men did not answer, Even’s anger creating a thick layer of tension that they were all hesitant to break. A familiar cough broke it.

“I think you can discipline him in any way you like,” Christoffer said, his tone deceptively uncaring. But Isak could detect the note of concern hidden underneath. “But you should be gentle with him. He is only a boy. And so fair.”

Isak heard the men begin to laugh and goad Christoffer for thinking only with his cock, and Isak felt the focus move away from him. He did not long for Christoffer any longer, but after the emotional turmoil of the day, he felt gratitude for the small act of kindness.

Even shoved Isak even further over his shoulder and he stiffened at the treatment. He felt wretched when Björn treated him like a doll but it was worse when Even did it.

“You can only be gentle so many times before you realise gentleness is not a good teacher,” Even said blandly, making Isak shiver with renewed fear. “William offered sound advice. But I’ll be the one dealing it out.”

Isak heard some of the men echo William’s sentiment and others humming in agreement but he could not hear their words over the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears.

How dare Even do this to him?

After telling him he loved him and that he would never hurt him?

After killing Jonas?

Isak was so caught up in his own indignation, he only realized Even was moving when the ground he was staring down at begun to shift.

“Let go of me!” Isak yelled out and he began to wriggle in his grasp. He cried out when Even brought a heavy hand down on the swell of his ass, the pain searing hot on his cold body.

“Be still,” Even said, his voice stiff and formal. He was brisk, his long legs and very presence giving them a wide berth as he carried Isak from the crowd.

Isak would not be still. He had been still for too long, obedient under Even’s thumb because he believed that he loved him and he wanted what was best for him. Jonas paid for Isak’s ignorance with his life and now Isak would pay with a flogging. Isak had never witnessed a flogging but he had seen the scars on Eva’s back. They were ugly pits, thick with scar tissue but lumpy from where her flesh had come off. Isak’s back would soon look like that.

He began to wail with panic now, his body shaking and he felt Even spank him again, this time gently. It felt like a lover’s caress and Isak hated him for it.

“I hate you!” Isak cried out loud and Even did not reply but Isak felt him tighten his hold on his waist. Isak wanted to hurt him as much as he was going to hurt him. As much as he _had_ hurt him.

“I hate you!” Isak yelled again, and this time, he kicked Even in the stomach, sending him toppling from his arms and into the snow.

Isak stood on shaky feet and stumbled away from Even who was already beginning to stand on his ridiculously long legs. Even was strong and fast but Isak was afraid, and he knew that was more powerful.

He began to run in the opposite direction, away from the village and Even. He could still hear Even’s heavy footfall behind him so he pushed himself harder, until his throat burned along with his body.

When he came to the edge of the woods, he felt his boots slip on something slick that sent him spiraling across the icy ground and onto his back.

“Isak!” Even yelled but Isak ignored him, instead shakily trying to find his bearings. He did not understand why Even did not cross the boundaries of the forest to grab him but he did not dwell on it. He had to get away from him.

“Please, _Lille Sol_! Stop!”

Isak’s limbs already ached from exertion but it was his heart that began to ache with agony when he heard the familiar endearment fall from Even’s lips.

“Do not call me that!” Isak sobbed. “I am not your sun!”

Even came closer, his hands raised placatingly as if Isak were a skittish animal.

“You are,” Even said, “You are my ice and sun.”

Isak remembered that afternoon when Even had pulled him onto his lap and patiently taught him how to read. Even had told Isak that the sun melted ice. Isak had believed it for a while, that he had tamed Even with the light of his love like he claimed every day.

But maybe the sun was not enough for a village as cold as this.

If the Gods could not find them here, then how could the sun God who blessed them all with his light and life?

“And you are ice and rain,” Isak said quietly. He saw Even smile gently because Isak had remembered. “But ice and rain are the same thing here.”

Even’s smile began to fall as he took in Isak’s words. Isak pushed himself up and stood on two feet.

“Isak, no! The ice-”

Even’s stopped and Isak heard the heart-stopping sound of a crack that filled the vast space between them.

Isak did not dare to even breathe. He only stared helplessly across what he now knew was ice, to look at Even’s horrified face. He was on ice, and the weather had become warmer, more seasonable. That meant...

“Even…” Isak said slowly, his voice trembling. He was a coward and a child. Because even now, after Even had betrayed him and threatened to flog him, he looked to him for comfort.

“Do not move, _Lille Sol._ Stay exactly as you are.”

Isak nodded obediently. He did not think he could move even if he wanted to, his fear seizing his limbs and making them heavy.

“I want you to sit down,” Even said and Isak shook his head jerkily at the order. The thought of even lifting a single foot to take a step towards Even made him break out into a cold sweat. Sitting down seemed worse still.

“Isak, do it,” Even said sternly and Isak would have thought him unaffected if it wasn’t for the tremor underlying his voice.

He was afraid too.

Isak started to cry softly and he shook his head again. “Even, I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Even said, gentler now, and then he added, “Do you trust me?”

Isak wanted to say no. He wanted to hurt Even ten times over for what he had done.

But he couldn’t lie, not now when he was stripped bare, cold, and afraid for his life. So instead of answering Even’s question, he inhaled and slowly began to bend his knees until he was crouched over the ice.

He gingerly lowered his backside until he was sitting. He exhaled sharply when the ice cracked further under the added weight.

“That was good,” Even said, and it should have sounded condescending but the praise had Isak pushing down a shaky smile.

“Now I want you to slide across the ice using your bottom,” Even said, “Do not lift your legs.”

Isak began to shift, rocking his backside against the ice until he slowly but surely began to cross the ice to safety.

It was only when he was a few feet away from Even that he stopped moving.

“What are you doing!?” Even asked, his voice impatient, “Come here before the ice breaks.”

“No, I will not,” Isak said. “What’s the point of escaping death by ice only to walk into your arms and let you flog me bloody?”

Even recoiled at Isak’s vulgar words, his face screwing up like the mere suggestion was abhorrent to him.

“ _How could you think I would ever flog you?_ ” he asked furiously and Isak would have believed him if he had not seen how little Even’s words meant.

“I didn’t think you would murder Jonas either,” Isak said honestly, “But I know what I saw.”

“I did not kill Jonas,” Even lied and Isak felt the urge to hit him again. It had him pushing himself towards Even using his legs, something that made the ice start to crackle again, but he was too angry to care.

“Liar! How can you say that when I saw his body with my own eyes?!”

“I’ll explain everything to you once you get off the ice,” Even said slowly, his voice dismissive. Isak was done with Even dismissing him like he was child.

“There is nothing left to explain!” Isak yelled and as if echoing the crack in his voice, the ice began to give away where Isak sat.

Even’s howl was the last thing Isak heard before the very ground underneath him broke and he learned what true ice felt like.

He could not even scream as he begun to sink like a stone and cold water filled his lungs. The only thing he could see clearly was the sun. It was dim but solitary, visible through the thick sheet of ice that seemed to cover his entire world.

That was when he realised he was going to die down here, with only ice around him and the far away sun for company. He could hear the sound of muffled steps and yelling but he did not focus on it, his attention solely on the blurred light that leaked through the water.

He forced his eyes open for as long as he could, staring at the blurred orb until his eyes started to roll back and his vision blurred. Even was the one who always called him his sun, but Even had been Isak’s. Isak would always regret not being enough to melt the ice for Even but Even had been enough for him. He had been the brightest thing in Isak’s life after his Mama’s passing and despite all that had happened to Eva, Jonas, Vilde, and Isak himself, Isak could not bring himself to regret loving him.

Only when his mind was quiet and still, was his body pulled from the water and out into the cold air above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Burned Body, Mentions of rape, Brief Spanking, Fear of Flogging, Drowning, Period-typical Ableism.


	23. Take Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even shares many truths with Isak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the end of the chapter for trigger warnings (these include spoilers.)

**Chapter 22 - Take Me Home**

_And I was running far away_

_Would I run off the world someday?_

_But now take me home_

_Take me home where I belong_

_I got no other place to go_

_Now take me home_

[Runaway, AURORA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_HlPboLRL8)

**Isak**

For hours there was nothing but the cold grip of ice around his arms, his legs, his throat and most of all around his stomach, pushing through to his insides like the blunt coils of a snake. His body was a vessel for pain; he burned with the ferocity of _Sol_ and then withered and frayed and fell like the winter leaves of the trees that surrounded the vast peaks and plains of Hålogaland.

Even’s body next to him felt more familiar than his own. He pushed back against it, wrapped the strong arms around his chest, murmured _never let go_. But he was not fully conscious, did not know if he was saying it or only thinking it.

Each shiver and shudder of his body brought him closer to lucidity and after a time, maybe hours, or days, he felt liquid being poured into him: hot broth that set his mouth on fire, pooling into the pit of his stomach. He coughed, blinking, staring up into the pale, worried eyes of the man he loved.

“Isak,” Even said, uncertainly, as though he had never said his name before. “You-”

“I fell,” Isak said, and though it was not a question Even nodded and replied, “Yes, you fell. Through the ice. But you are so strong. And the water… the water was not so cold.”

“You followed me in?” Isak asked, less certainly. “You saved me?”

“You already know I would follow you to the ends of the oceans and to the bottom of each and every one of them.”

Isak felt his chest tighten; he let out a rattling cough that made his whole body heave. Even’s face fell, he pressed the bowl to Isak’s mouth again, and Isak parted his lips obediently. “Eva made this,” Even told him. “We have been so worried.”

“You keep saving me from the cold.”

“Thankfully you had more fat on your bones this time,” Even said, referring to his wretched fall into the bear pit. He attempted a smile, but Isak could take no pleasure from even the gentlest of humour. He was focused on Even in the here and now, but underneath, feeling started to creep into his sore limbs and the darkness at the edge of his memories. Slowly he remembered it, piece by fractured piece.

_Jonas. His blackened body. The flogging. I was almost flogged when I tried to get him down._

That was why he had been out on the ice. Because Even had not been the man he knew, and though Isak had headed out towards certain death, it was preferable to living with the weight of betrayal.

And yet… another voice took hold of Isak. Even’s voice, hoarse and desperate. Telling him he had not killed Jonas. That he would explain it when Isak was off the ice.

“Isak?” Even asked. He had been saying something but Isak had not heard. “Isak, please-”

“You killed Jonas,” Isak said. The snakes around his body tightened, he coughed again, pushing the bowl away. “You killed an innocent man. The only true friend I have made here. You murdered him and degraded his body. You did not even allow him the dignity of burial.” He spoke numbly. What else was there to say?

Even’s plump lips tightened into a straight line. He was hurt by Isak’s words, the insinuation behind them. _You are no true friend_ , Isak thought spitefully. _You are nothing_. But the words felt false, a betrayal.

How had the man who had sacrificed so much for Isak in the same breath betrayed him so completely?

“I did not murder the Holy man,” Even said after a time. His words were hard like wood but just as hollow for all that Isak believed them. “I would not hurt someone you cared about. Not Eva, or Vilde. Not Jonas… not even Christoffer, if I could help it.”

“Then what?” Isak asked. He held a hand to his mouth, coughing miserably, wrapping the covers tightly around him, and Even shook his head.

“You are in no fit state to do this now.”

“There is no _fit state_ to do this,” Isak said, ashamed of himself when he felt tears at his eyes. “Tell me your lies so I may pass to _Hel_ with some degree of peace in my heart.”

“ _Do not say such a thing!_ ” Even yelled, his words as sharp as his flashing eyes. Isak felt no fear, only despair. It was despair that made his eyes wet with hot tears, despair that made him cling to his own body to anchor himself. He loved this man, and yet to love him made Isak a fool.

“I saw his body,” Isak sobbed. “I heard what they said. What _Eva_ said. The way you stared at Jonas’s body as though he was a mere hanging decoration for your winter festivals here. Why must you lie to me? At least give me some dignity, Even. Be honest, if you ever had any love in your heart for me.”

“Isak, I am telling you the truth. Jonas is alive and I can prove it. The body you saw was not Jonas’s.”

Each word was careful, measured, but Isak could detect no deceit in them. He stirred against the bed, shuffling back to prop himself up further on the pillows, in order to feel more level with Even, though he still needed to tilt his head back to come close.

“If it was not Jonas I saw, then who?” Isak asked simply. He expected Even to say nothing, and yet at the same time he hoped he would say anything. _Anything_ to fix this intolerable situation.

“Nikolai.”

Isak blinked, shaking his head. _Nikolai? But Nikolai is in the dungeons of this village. Even if he had died, surely the villagers would have known it was his body? They all believed the body to be Jonas’s..._

“And how do you know this?” he asked carefully.

“Because I buried him here on my estate. And I dug him back up myself.”

“He was in the village dungeons. How did you get to him?”

“That was a lie I told you. The only lie I have told you.” Isak felt himself stiffen, churlishly turning his head to one side.

“It was still a lie.”

“Need I remind you, Isak, how unpredictable you have been? The burdens you have had to bear? Eva and I were both worried for you, we did not think you were able to live with the truth.”

“Because I am weak?” Isak asked, a bitter smile on his lips. Eva, too, had conspired against him. All people seemed to do was make pacts behind his back, implicitly agreeing he was too feeble to take care of himself. “You murdered Nikolai, buried him, lied to me, let me believe it was Jonas, and all because you do not trust me to keep my mouth closed?”

“It was not Even who murdered him,” a new voice to the conversation said, and Isak looked to the doorway of the bedroom to see Eva standing there, a fretful expression on her face. “I was the one who killed him, as was my right. He stole everything from me. My pride and my hair and my body and my spirit. And then he tried to steal you, and that was the one indignity I couldn’t allow. I took pleasure in ending his life.”

Isak was taken aback by her words; he opened his mouth silently, until she continued, “And yes, I believed his corpse would stay in the ground. I did not know what Even’s plans were and I told you something I had no proof of despite Even protecting me for taking Nikolai’s life. If you should be angry with anyone, it is me.”

“But Even was the one who lied to me,” Isak said stubbornly, and Eva drew an irritated breath.

“We both lied to you, Isak. I could have told you, Even could have told you. But we felt as though it was one blow too many. You have been through so much.”

“You have been through more.”

“And that is my burden to bear. But we protect one another, that is what we do. We only had each other, and Vilde, and that was how it had to be when we were children. And in many ways I still see you as that skinny legged boy who cried when nobody but me was looking because of things you had no control over.” Eva came to him, taking his head in her hands, wiping at his stray tears with her fingers. “See? You are not so different now.”

“I could have coped with knowing about Nikolai. I could have helped. You did not need to face this alone.”

“I had Even. He has been good to me. And you know I would not say that if it wasn’t the truth. Believe me, if I had reason to doubt him, to hate him still, I would find it.”

Isak looked at Even, saw him laugh at that, and the smile warmed Isak’s stiff body even more than the broth had.

“So the villagers believe Nikolai is… where?”

“Who knows?” Even said. “If questions about his disappearance land at my door, I will have a clear conscious and an empty estate for them to search. Let them try, for they will not attach blame to me.”

“And Jonas? How is he to return, if they assume he is dead?”

There was a silence at this question, and finally Eva sighed. “He will not return, Isak.”

“This was no place for a Holy man,” Even said, simply. “There are no Gods here. Not his, certainly not ours.”

It was the first time Isak had heard Even denounce the Gods that the North men held in so much esteem. He had thought the same thought countless times since he had arrived, but Even had always held true to the ways of his people. Isak swallowed, understanding the meaning behind it, and what Even was trying to say.

There was no fate that they themselves did not make. Even was no longer accountable to the beliefs of the village if he did not fear the Gods that they worshipped.

“If you do not believe in them, what do you believe in?” he asked quietly.

Even moved closer to him and took his hand. “This,” he said, placing the hand against Isak’s bare chest, his beating heart. “This,” he said, moving Isak’s hand over to his own. “I believe in your strength and courage, and your beauty and kindness, and I believe you are the only God I will ever swear allegiance to.” He moved his mouth to Isak’s, ghosted his breath against it. “But you are better than any God, because you are here. I can see you, and feel you. I can taste you. And that makes you more remarkable than brave _Tyr_ or blind _Höðr_ or any of the other faceless men that we are told as children to believe in.”

He pressed his lips to Isaks’ more firmly; Isak was aware of Eva leaving the room, and of the heat beginning to coil in his stomach, no longer an icey reptilian grip. He brought his arms up to Even’s shoulders and pulled him close, his body yearning to feel Even’s body against his.

“I continue to have to say sorry for doubting you,” he said sheepishly, and Even moved from him slightly, frowning.

“We are one, Isak, but that does not mean we share all the same thoughts. You acted as the situation called for, and I was angry at seeing you at Jonas’s feet and sent us down this path because I believed he had hurt you. I am the one who should be saying sorry, you did nothing other than act out in betrayal.”

“I just wish it was simpler sometimes,” Isak admitted, and Even nodded, his eyes never leaving Isak’s face. “And I wish you could understand that I am strong. You call me your _Lille Sol_ but you don’t see, do you, that the sun is fire? It is stronger than it looks, it leaves your skin red and blistered when you bask in it for too long, and it hurts to stare at it when it is low and fat in the sky. I am stronger than you know, Even, and I deserve to be treated as such.”

He felt the prickle of a blush through his damp cheeks when Even smiled at his words. “Do my childish words amuse you?” Isak asked, and Even shook his head quickly.

“No, of course not. I just realised how much more I want to tear off your clothes when you speak so fiercely.”

Isak tried not to pout. “I wanted you to take me seriously, Even.”

“And I do. I will. You are right; keeping secrets from you, when you have endured so much, seems foolish. Before you came here, I had grown accustomed to never answering to anyone. Now I have a great burning fire, one who shares my bed, and my heart, to think of.”

Isak preened at that and smiled. “You do.”

“But if I swear this to you, you must swear it in return, Isak,” Even said with solemnity, and Isak scoffed at that. There was nothing he wished to keep from Even, not one thing. “Isak,” Even said warningly, and Isak rolled his eyes, a smile pulling the corners of his mouth up.

“I swear by all the false Gods and the real Gods, if there are any.”

“Speaking of which,” Even said, and Isak looked up to where he was gesturing, seeing Jonas’s face peering warily around the door.

“Holy Man,” Even said wryly, and Jonas replied testily, “Berserker.”

“I will give you two some space,” Even said, rising from his seat next to Isak on the bed. “I will be listening in, though,” he warned, before passing Jonas on the way out of the room, looking at him with clear suspicion as he did so.

 _Apparently some things haven’t changed_ , Isak thought to himself, smiling.

Jonas came close and took up Even’s previous position, pulling Isak into a tight hug that both were reluctant to let go of for some time.

“I did not want to leave without saying goodbye.”

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

“As safe as it can be in this hellhole of a village,” Jonas said, before making the sign of a cross with his thumb and forefinger. “Apologies, I should not speak so freely of that which I do not know.”

“Your hell is like our _Hel_?” Isak asked, and Jonas shrugged.

“I suppose they are both places we may end up once we have passed from this world, but I do not know if there are any further similarities. My hell is where the sinners go, and I suspect it will be very crowded by the time I arrive.”

Isak laughed at that. “Perhaps they will turn you away, then?”

“Well, I am only short, they will probably be able to squeeze me in.” Jonas moved away from Isak slightly, frowning. “In all seriousness, Isak, I am sorry for all this… this distress. I believed I could make a difference here but I feel there is no hope in this place. I will be glad to leave.”

“Does that mean there is no hope for me?” Isak asked, and Jonas looked to the door, clearly remembering Even’s warning words, before sighing, looking at Isak with honesty in his eyes.

“You have people who love you here. That is hope enough.”

“I will miss you,” Isak said, “And who knows? The world is not so big. Maybe we will meet again before _Hel_.”

“I hope so,” Jonas told him. He pulled Isak into another tight hug, hands stroking through his hair. “You can come with me, if you want,” he whispered, and Isak laughed, shaking his head. “No?” Jonas asked, and Isak whispered, “No,” in response.

Because after all, he had almost lost Even so many times. He would not consider the possibility of losing him again.

 

* * *

 

Isak’s body recovered over the next few weeks, and slowly but surely winter melted into the first blooms of spring. Green patches began to trickle through the ice, the coldness loosened its grip on their weary bodies, and most gloriously of all the hours of sunlight became longer.

One day, as the three of them sat round the fire, Even’s arms curled around Isak as Eva busied herself chopping vegetables, Even started suddenly, as though noticing something, and Isak looked up at him with sleepy, curious eyes.

“I have never realised how beautiful you have made this place, Eva,” Even said, and Eva smiled good naturedly, her chest swelling with pride.

“I have helped!” Isak said petulantly. “Just because I don’t require praise every five seconds like-”

“Isak,” Even said sternly. “You are the most spoilt, lazy boy in the world. And we would not have you any other way.”

Eva stuck out her tongue at him, grinning, and Isak pretended to push Even away while somehow burying himself deeper into his warmth.

It was true, though. The sparse, barren homestead that Even had brought Isak to was now beautiful and warm not just because of the roaring fire but because of the drapes and the cushioning and the wooden carvings that Even had completed and discarded, and that Eva had hunted out.

“It looks like my Mamma used to have it,” Even said, a little more quietly, and Isak turned his eyes upwards to look at him. It was so rare for Even to mention his mother freely. “She always made it beautiful, and I let it go to ruin and disrepair when she and my father were killed.”

“How were they killed?” Isak asked, before he could stop himself. He followed it with a quiet, “I’m sorry, you do not need to answer that.”

Even went very still and quiet for a time and then said, “They were murdered.”

Somewhere, in Isak’s mind, a memory stirred, and he frowned, trying to work out why it appeared so suddenly.

“The villagers say you did it,” Eva said plainly, and Isak thought,  _So do the carvings on the door in your own homestead_. But in his heart he knew the man who held him so gently, and poured love onto his body each morning and evening and all the times in between that, was not a murderer of innocent people.

“Of course they do. I am the Berserker and they have feared me since I was a child.” Even tilted Isak’s chin up and said softly, “But I know my own mind. I know that I am not what they say I am. Mother slayer. Father slayer. I am Even Bech Næsheim, and they were my beloved parents who were kind to me and defended me from the petty, narrow-minded views of insignificant people.”

His voice cracked, and then spilled out all at once, like a waterfall breaking through a sheet of ice. “I was on my first raid. It was a small one, to a few villages over. We went on horseback, not boat. I was a boy, barely fifteen. Even younger than the two of you now. I did not want to go because I was scared. My father had stayed at home because he decided it was best not to coddle me during the raid. When I returned, I found my father slain here, by the fire. And my mother, naked, violated, beheaded in her own bed.”

The memory stirred again, and Isak remembered then why. _Nikolai_ , he thought. _Nikolai admitted to this foul deed before he tried to murder me._ Isak blinked back tears, trying to be strong for Even; when he glanced at Eva he saw she was crying openly.

“Who do you believe it was?” Isak asked warily, wondering if now was the time to speak and share his own knowledge. Even made a small noise of painful betrayal.

“I have never said it out loud.”

“Please, Even.”

“Three North men stayed behind at the village. My father was one of them. Erik and Nikolai were the other two.”

Isak’s breath stopped short. Nikolai, yes, of course. There was no doubt in Isak’s mind that his confession had been true. But Erik? The leader of the North men, the man that Even tried so hard to please each day?

“But you and Erik… you told me once you thought of him almost as a father.”

Even’s face twisted into something painful, vulnerable. “It is easier sometimes to tell myself my mind has played a trick on me. To forgive those who have not taken blame for their deeds. In the weeks following my parent’s deaths I was thrown into the dungeon. Erik was the only one who defended me, and so I was allowed to live, to fight with the North men once again. I told myself, it was not him that did it.”

“And you still believe that? You think perhaps Nikolai worked alone?” Eva asked.

Even fell silent again, and Isak wondered if he would speak again. But then he answered, “No, I do not believe one man, barely out of boyhood, could have defeated my father.”

“Even,” Isak said softly, bringing his hands up to Even’s warm face and pressing them to his cheeks. “Why did you not tell people the truth?”

“Because who would believe a _madman_ like me?” Even asked, but his words were gentle, peaceful. Isak felt his body tense beside him, unsure why Even was able to stay so calm even as he spoke of such terrible things.

“Aren’t you angry? Do you not wish to challenge Erik now you are stronger than him? He is old, you are the best warrior in this village, and-”

“It is over. I do not want to live with anger in my heart.”

“He killed your parents! Your anger would be understandable, Even, it would be-”

“He is the leader of the North men, Isak. If I defeated him, I would face death regardless of whether it was a fair challenge, and you know what that means for you and Eva.”

Isak did. When a thrall owner died, their thralls were buried with him. There was to be no bargaining or reselling when there was no owner to buy from. Perhaps one of the North men would make a claim for him, and for Eva, but Isak knew that to many now they were considered to be tainted, a bad luck charm.

“It is funny,” Even said, smiling without humour. “Before, I did not feel strong enough to challenge Erik. Now I have you, I know that I am. But I no longer wish to do so, because I am content.”

“I do not believe you,” Isak said challengingly. He heard Eva give a small warning cough and he ignored her. “How can you be content to live in a village that is built on lies and murder and betrayal? Where the leader of the North men is able to rule without recourse or punishment?” He moved slowly away from Even and said, “It is a sickness, Even. This whole village is infested with it. And you can see it but you choose to do nothing about it.”

Even’s face stretched into a painful scowl. “And if I was to challenge him? Kill him? What then, Isak? You wish for me to be put to death by the men who already hate me, who tolerate me only because I am a good fighter? They will not tolerate me any longer if they feel I am a threat to them.”

“Then make them see you’re not,” Eva said. Even looked across at her, blinking.

“Excuse me?”

“Win over the villagers, Even. Win over the North men. There are those that already love you. Magnus, Eskild, Christoffer, Christina; they are all loyal to you. And with more North men on your side, you will be protected.”

“It is impossible,” Even said. He shook his head. “The four you have named are poor fighters or simply villagers. They will offer me no protection.”

“And what if I was to tell you that William hates his father, and is glad his brother has gone missing?” Eva asked. Isak looked at her, furrowing his brow, and saw that Even’s expression matched his own.

“Nikolai raped William’s wife. He murdered William’s sister when she was but a child. We women folk talk, Even, we know these things better than you silent North men. William has no love in his heart for Erik, who allowed these things to happen, who will not renounce Nikolai even now William knows the truth about Noora’s rape.”

Isak looked at the realisation creeping into the edges of Even’s wide blue eyes. “If you had William on your other side, the other men would follow,” he whispered.

Even’s mouth twitched and then he pulled Isak back to him, resting his head on his knees as he began to stroke through his curls. “Perhaps I will consider it,” he concluded. Isak stirred, nodding. For now, the mere consideration was enough.

 

* * *

 

 

The great lights of the North came late this year. Isak had heard stories about them during the months he had been here and he had longed to see them with all his heart, though the North men were naturally distrustful of them. Black magic happened on the nights the aurora visited, or so they said. But when Isak woke one night to see the sky alive in colours he could barely comprehend, his body ached to be underneath them and he shook Even awake, his lips at Even’s ear.

“Look,” he said, lifting the heavy drapes of the window. “Look out there, Even.”

“Gods protect us,” Even muttered heavily and turned over to go back to sleep. Isak whined playfully in his ear.

“You told me there were no Gods here.”

“All the more reason to stay in bed.”

“Even, I want to see them, please!” Isak looked at Even hopefully, eyes wide in the candlelight, and Even growled, hands at Isak’s hips.

“You are a menace, Isak.”

They pulled on their furs and their boots and crept silently through the homestead, the fire burning low on the heath. Isak’s hands ghosted in front of it for a moment before he braced himself for the chill outside.

“You see?” Even said when they were standing underneath it. “Nothing spectacular.”

Isak looked up, his neck craned up so his chin was level with the sky. He reached his hands up, almost believing he could touch the vast pinks and greens and lilacs that danced like fireflies in the dark endless skies above them.

“They are the _most_ beautiful,” Isak said. “They are more beautiful than anything I have ever seen.”

“They are not even a close second to your face, _Lille Sol_ ,” Even said huffily, and Isak laughed delightedly.

“Why are you so bad tempered? It does not suit you, you know? Your smile is far more appealing to me.”

“I am bad tempered because my impetuous thrall has dragged me from the warmth of my bed to make me view this dark magic. The lights bring nothing but ill news, Isak. They are said to be sent by the great trickster himself, Loki, to steal newborn babes from their mothers’ breasts.”

Isak laughed, his voice carrying across the silent fields that surrounded them. “You are scared of the pretty lights?”

“I am… distrustful of the pretty lights, Isak.”

“Then come lie down here and we will watch them together, and I will keep you safe,” Isak boasted. When Even faltered, Isak ran at him, yelping gleefully as he knocked Even off of his feet and then climbed into the crook of his arm, resting his head on the broad chest of his lover.

“There are no babes in the homestead for them to steal, anyway,” Isak murmured when their breaths were still again. “Unless Eva is not telling us something.”

“Eva would have a hard time conceiving, considering the time she has been spending with Vilde lately,” Even said wryly, reaching his hand out for Isak’s and squeezing. “I suppose I will let you keep me out here a while longer.”

They watched until Isak could no longer feel the blood in his fingers, and Even’s methodical rubbing of the exposed parts of his skin could no longer stop the chill from setting in. But still, Isak did not wish to return, not when the aurora danced and moved so vividly above them.

“Did you speak to William?” Isak asked. Even considered his words, and above Isak’s head, he felt Even nod, his chin resting on Isak’s hair.

“I did. I bought him an ale and remarked on how much more pleasant the village was without the Holy man. And do you know what he said?”

“What?”

“He said the Holy Man was shorter than most men, and yet his corpse was taller than William, when William helped to string him up. He thought that was most odd.”

“Oh.” Isak shifted nervously.

“Yes,” Even said, but he did not sound concerned. “He said there was only three men in the village taller than him. Me, his father, and Nikolai.”

“Oh,” Isak said again, and the feeling of dread in his stomach grew. He did not understand why Even was being so calm. Was he simply trying not to scare Isak? “This is bad, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Even asked, amused. “Because then he shook my hand, said he owed me a gratitude and bought me an ale in return.”

“You think-”

“I think what Eva said is true. I think that William has no allegiance to the Magnusson name anymore.”

The declaration made Isak shiver, but not from the cold, or even fear, but from the anticipation of what might come next.

“The warmer days will be here soon. The raids will pick up again. Perhaps it is time for a new leader,” Even declared simply. Isak smiled, his mind full of the possibilities of this village under a fairer leader. How much capacity for good there would be within it. A leader like William, maybe, or even better… _a leader like Even_.

Even grabbed Isak’s hand and hissed under his breath. “And speaking of warmth, it is time to go back inside.”

Isak looked up at him imploringly. “Five more minutes.”

“Isak-”

“I will allow you to… to do that thing, you wanted to do to me? After you found me with Jonas?” His stomach squirmed at the memory, Even’s big hands near the curve of his ass. “You can, if I am being a…. What did you say? An impetuous thrall?” He smiled shyly. “But please, let’s lie here a while longer, and watch Loki try to steal me away from you. I think you could challenge him. I think you could challenge anyone.”

“All but one,” Even said, his hands in Isak’s hair. “There is one who I will give into each and every time.”

Isak felt a rush of blood to his cock and he grabbed Even’s furs, pulling him on top of him. “If you are scared of the lights, watch my face only as you thrust into me,” he told Even. Even’s face twisted in pleasure, and he leaned down to kiss him.

“That’s all I do anyway, _Lille Sol_.”

Isak let Even take him, his body sinking into melting snow, his eyes taking in the familiar lines and scars of Even’s face, and the lights that illuminated him from behind like a warrior blessed by the Gods of old.

In Jutland, Isak had laid on his back in the fields surrounding his tiny village, watching the stars twinkling above him. He had imagined the world out there that one day he would see, and one day would be a part of.

He watched those same stars now, covered by the spectacle of lights that flashed before them, but most of all he watched Even’s face, and he knew the world he had longed to be part of was right here, in the ocean blue of his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Hypothermia, Period-Typical Ableism, Discussion of rape and murder.


	24. Part 2: The Sun Shall Bleed Outline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This outline was written when we were planning on writing Part 2. When we realized we wouldn't be able to complete it we moved some key events and reveals to Part 1 which is why they are repeated in this outline.)

 

**Prologue**

_Jonas’s POV_

  * Jonas getting caught for converting people/performing an ‘immoral’ sex act (Cunnilingus) on the daughter of a Viking.
  * Just a super funny scene with Jonas telling the Vikings that he’s the thrall of the Berserker Even and he ran away because Even killed his lover, a handsome priest.
  * He says he decided to become a priest to continue his beloved Jonas’s work.



 

**Chapter 1**

_Isak’s POV_

  * Recap of the last few months: Honeymoon period. Isak and Even have been heating up along with the weather. The ice and snow are gone and now Hålogaland is so green it reminds Isak of Jutland.


  * Isak has found better ways to channel Even’s mania, he doesn’t want him wrestling anymore bears. Instead, Even has begun teaching Magnus and Eva how to fight.
  * Eva and Isak have been working on fixing up Even’s house and land pretty much since they moved in.  Even eventually starts to help with this.
  * Present day: A messenger comes from a neighbouring village and they tell Even they have his thrall Jonas and they’ll return him if he comes and talks terms with another Viking village
  * Even has no idea what they’re talking about and Isak realises that Jonas was captured for converting people and he used Even’s name as a Berserker to save his life.
  * Even is going to help but realizes if he does then there will be no one to protect Isak so he tells Isak no. He saved Jonas once because it was his fault but Jonas got himself into trouble. He’s a grown man and not Even’s problem.
  * Isak is pissed at him all day and when they go out to the common area that night for dinner, Isak goes to talk to Christoffer.
  * Even is furious cause he told Isak never to speak to him after the other incident so he pulls him away.
  * Isak is pissed so he snakes him by saying he was asking Christoffer to help him get Jonas back and he agreed because he said he’d do anything for Isak
  * Even feels like his manhood/ownership of Isak is being threatened.
  * Isak and Even go home - Even tries to assert his authority by taking Isak to the bedroom but Isak is really feisty, telling him no each time Even tries to kiss him.
  * Even gets exasperated and storms out of the room with Isak still pleading with him
  * Eva overhears and insists they go save Jonas cause she likes him
  * Even finally says yes after they gang up on him.
  * He decides to call William and Christoffer to his house the next night.
  * He asks them for their help if they promise not to tell.
  * William agrees because he’s indebted to Even for killing Noora’s rapist and Christoffer just says yes cause he likes causing trouble and he wants to flirt with Isak.
  * Vilde is with William when he comes, sitting in the corner and serving them like a good thrall, and she notices how Even and Isak are with each other and realizes that William doesn’t treat her that kindly.
  * Right in front of William and Christoffer, Isak insists on coming and gets feisty about it. Even says fine but only if he promises not to get involved.
  * William is unimpressed with Even letting a thrall talk to him like that and Christoffer is a little turned on.



 

**Chapter 2**

_Isak’s POV_

  * The next night they leave, Eva comes along because she wants to practice using an axe.
  * Christoffer flirts with Isak the entire trip and Isak can’t help but be charmed.
  * Even wants to kill him but he knows he needs him for the mission.
  * When they reach the village they have to ask around in the market without looking suspicious - Christoffer chats up one of the local women who tells him right away.
  * They get to the place where Jonas is being held.
  * Even insists that Isak stays hidden - he’s grumpy about this but basically everyone agrees with Even.
  * The rest approach the Vikings who are really enthusiastic about seeing Even; they’ve decided they want him to join their tribe and will only give him his thrall back unless he does so.
  * Jonas, who is tied up, is still pretending to be Isak
  * The vikings are recounting all the things ‘Isak’ said about Even and are a bit confused about why Even is so obsessed with him and how Isak hadn’t looked anywhere near as pretty as they’d heard.
  * Christoffer is just snarking the whole time because he’s so amused by this.
  * Isak is still watching and just facepalming at some of the things Jonas said.
  * Even is getting progressively more annoyed - eventually he just cuts them off by running his axe through one of the men.
  * They fight - Even ‘accidentally on purpose’ pushes Christoffer against one of the swords and his face gets cuts - he’s ridiculously extra about this.
  * Isak is still watching and notices one of the other vikings moving towards Jonas to kill him.
  * He rushes out and flings himself over him and it kind of halts the fighting for a moment because when the other vikings see Isak they realise who he probably is. And when one of them makes a move towards him to grab him, Even goes full on berserker and hacks through them in order to get to Isak.
  * Having killed all the other vikings, they rush to get out of the village quickly before more come.  Chris is still complaining about his ‘beautiful face’ being ruined.
  * They get to a forest where they decide to camp out for the night.  Isak finds some herbs to treat Christoffer’s injury.  He climbs onto his lap in order to apply it and Even just grits his teeth as he watches.
  * Even makes a comment about bending Isak over for the stunt he pulled with Jonas because he wants to assert his authority but he stops when he sees Christoffer leering at that.
  * Even asks Jonas what the hell the immoral sex act thing was about to Jonas - Jonas and Christoffer proceed to compare notes on eating girls out with Eva chiming in.
  * Isak is fascinated (And a little disgusted). Even and William are trying to rise above this filth (mainly Even doesn’t like the way Christoffer is looking at Isak)
  * Later, they’re all drifting off to sleep. Even is staying up to keep watch and Isak falls asleep against his chest.
  * Even catches Christoffer watching Isak with this thoughtful, gentle expression on his face and he warns Christoffer that if he ever tries to touch Isak again, he’ll kill him.
  * Later, Isak wakes up. He and Even fuck while the others are sleeping.
  * Even looks across and sees Christoffer is watching - he focuses on making Isak moan out loud and saying his name, starts talking to him about how he’s going to eat him out when they get back home; Christoffer rolls over and pretends to go to sleep but inside he’s seething.  




**Chapter 3**

_Isak’s POV_

  * They get caught coming back by William’s father.
  * Jonas is hiding underneath a sheet because if he gets caught they’re fucked.
  * Isak is already sleeping in Even’s lap so on the spot Even lies and says they went to a neighbouring village to get medicine for his thrall who had fallen sick.
  * This is a bad idea because it tells the Vikings how important Isak is to him and it’s just unusual behaviour.
  * The next morning, Isak mentions to Even that he’s never seen the sea (he wasn’t really in a position to appreciate it when he was first brought to the village).
  * Even takes him to the shores of Hålogaland and they kiss and swim and are just generally very sweet together.
  * Christoffer is watching while this happens and cold-shoulders Isak when he waves to him.
  * Christoffer is unbearably jealous.



 

**Chapter 4**

_Christoffer’s POV_

  * Christoffer and William are at the tavern and Christoffer is totally wasted and talking about Isak.
  * He remembers Isak’s half naked body and starts going on and on about his beautiful smooth skin and how he wants to kiss it and generally makes an ass of himself.
  * William tells him to shut up but he’s a little perturbed because Christoffer usually never pines over women or men like this.
  * Erik overhears them and asks who they’re talking about and William says ‘Even’s thrall’
  * Erik is already suspicious because of Even going to another village to get medicine for a thrall so he decides to go see for himself if Isak is as unmarked as Christoffer is claiming.
  * Even was supposed to have flogged Isak for his impudence when he tried to pull Jonas’s body down. If he’s unmarked than Even lied to everyone and he’s softer for that his thrall than he’d care to admit. Erik can’t have that.



 

**Chapter 5**

_Isak POV_

  * The next day Isak and Eva are at home alone while Even is out.  Erik comes over and is throwing his weight around
  * He takes off Isak’s top and comments on how smooth his skin is considering the savage whipping Even was supposed to have given him. He is just generally quite creepy but doesn’t do anything to Isak beyond talking to him/looking.
  * Eva is watching but can’t do anything because she knows how much trouble they’ll get into if she attempts to harm Erik.
  * When he’s gone, Eva and Isak agree to keep this from Even as they don’t want him challenging him.
  * They’re both shaken.



 

**Chapter 6**

_Split POV (Omniscient/Isak’s POV)_

  * The Head Vikings realize after this that Even is too distracted by Isak.  He hasn’t been that useful on raids lately, he’s been letting prisoners go, not killing as much etc.


  * They’re not stupid; they know he’s completely wrapped around Isak’s finger so they decide that Even needs a wife.



_Isak’s POV_

  * Sonja arrives announced at the homestead with her brother Knut. Isak answers the door and is shocked.
  * Sonja tries to slap Isak for making eye contact with her but Even pulls him out of her way at the last second.
  * They all awkwardly sit down for dinner. Sonja makes a rude remark about Isak and Eva sitting at the same table as their betters so Even is forced to tell Isak to leave his seat at Even’s side and eat in the other room.
  * Isak and Eva serve them and Isak has to watch Sonja flirt with Even. She tells him that he’s quite old to be unmarried and proposes a marriage.
  * Even initially refuses but Sonja alludes to people thinking his attention is straying to ‘inappropriate outlets’. She kisses his neck and whispers something Isak can’t hear and Even says he’ll consider it.
  * Isak can’t breathe, he leaves the dining room and hides in one of Even’s large cupboards. It’s warm and quiet and helps him calm down.
  * He feels like a child when he climbs out and Sonja is watching him curiously.
  * Sonja says she understand why Even is taken with him but he shouldn’t forget what he is. Even can’t marry a little boy and he certainly can’t marry property.
  * She claims she’s not a cruel or jealous woman because Isak is nothing to be jealous of. She nonchalantly says that when they’re married she’ll be the one to decide whether they keep Isak or sell him.
  * Isak is shaken.
  * That night Isak goes and sleeps in his room and just thinks about how little he means in Viking society. He’ll never have a place here. He cries alone.  




**Chapter 7**

_Isak’s POV_

  * Isak has been awkward around Even since Sonja’s proposal and Even has noticed.
  * Even asks Isak if he wants to go for a walk to improve his mood and Isak can’t refuse.
  * It’s hot and getting hotter to mimic the tension between them.
  * Even asks Isak about how he feels about Sonja’s proposal. Isak says it’s not his place to choose for Even rather petulantly and Even teases him about how lovely he looks even when he lies.
  * Even says something weird along the lines of you look beautiful in the summer etc. and Isak calls him out because Even has never seen him in the summer?
  * “Why do you call me that? Lille Sol?' and Even says 'Well the first time i saw you, you had the sun behind you and i thought that’s what you looked like. The sun, albeit a small one.”
  * Isak is flattered at first but then he remembers that it was night time when Even supposedly saw him for the first time.
  * It all comes out in a messy fight - Even had planned the raid to take Isak.
  * Isak is afraid and betrayed.
  * Even can’t articulate his feelings and says something like ‘I wanted you so I took you’ and that makes Isak feel like shit because Even only saw him as an object to steal  
Isak sleeps and cries in Eva’s arms but doesn’t tell her what Even did.
  * He’s scared Eva will blame him for being too tempting and getting all of them taken and their entire village being burned to the ground.
  * Even describing him like an object also confirms what Sonja said, he’s just a thrall to Even. Just property. Not a person that Even could ever possibly love.



 

**Chapter 8**

_Isak’s POV_

  * Even announces that he and Sonja are engaged.
  * Eva is shocked and looks to Isak be he shows no reaction. He’s not sure if he wants Even’s love, or if he ever had it. He’s drowning in guilt.  
After Eva has left the room Even reassures Isak that it’s only for appearances to reassure Erik and the men that he hasn’t gone soft. For Isak, is implied.
  * Sonja comes over, this time without Knut as a chaperone because she and Even are now engaged. She asks Isak to show her around the homestead and he complies.
  * She idly comments and says Eva (and Isak’s room would be perfect for children) and Isak has a panic attack.
  * When he wakes, Eva is at his bedside. She tells him that Even was with him all day but Sonja called him away.
  * Isak begins to cry and Eva hushes him and tries to tell him that they’re not alone.
  * Christoffer was there and he’s sobered at the sight of Isak so vulnerable.
  * Apparently Sonja told the story about Even’s weak little thrall passing out at the tavern and Christoffer had been worried so he came back to see him.
  * Isak tells him he didn’t have to but he’s touched that he cared.
  * Christoffer tells him that if Isak was his he would not want for anything and he would never let some woman throw him out.
  * Eva is offended on Even’s behalf but intrigued by the whole display.
  * Christoffer offers to buy Isak (and Eva) if Even tries to sell him, this comforts Isak - particularly as he thought Christoffer no longer liked him at all.
  * He thanks him.



 

**Chapter 9**

_Isak’s POV_

  * Isak becomes more distant from Even because he wants to get used to the idea of being away from Even.
  * Even and Isak are awkward and they’re both depressed.
  * Even is going on a raid and he moves to kiss Isak but Isak pulls away. Hurt, Even leaves.
  * Eva chastises Isak, she can’t understand why he doesn’t tell Even to break it off. She knows he would.


  * (Offscreen: Sonja can tell Even is one step away from breaking off the engagement and suggests that the men kidnap Isak to motivate him for an upcoming raid.)  
After Even leaves, Isak hears someone knock on the door of the homestead.
  * He assumes it’s Even and opens the door but someone puts a bag on his head and he starts screaming. He can hear Eva yelling too.
  * He’s easily carried out and taken.
  * The bag is taken off his head and he’s thrown to the ground.
  * He doesn’t know where he is until he sees
  * Sonja kisses Knut and Isak realizes she’s sleeping with her brother.
  * Sonja slaps him for looking at them with judgement.
  * Knut tells her not to hurt him, they need something to hold over Even so he performs.
  * Sonja mockingly says Even won’t care and deep down, Isak agrees.



 

**Chapter 10**

_Even’s POV_

  * Even is on the trek with the rest of the men.
  * When they stop to make camp Erik gives them a rousing speech then pulls Even aside and tells him to fight hard today or he’ll suffer.
  * He hands Even the key to the armoury, the one that Isak kept on his neck.
  * Even is ready to kill him but Erik says if he does anything Isak will be killed and he’ll never know where his pretty little corpse is.
  * As they prepare for the raid, Christoffer taunts Even because he can see him faltering. He’s depressed but he can’t afford to not fight hard today.
  * Christoffer describes what the other vikings will do to Isak if Even doesn’t do well enough on this raid - he is very graphic about it.
  * Even is close to killing him but he realises subconsciously that Christoffer is trying to help him.
  * Even goes full on warrior mode and kills a fuck ton of people.
  * When Even returns home, a horse carrying Isak is sent. Isak is bound to it but there’s no one with him so Even doesn’t know who took him.
  * He cuts Isak free and carries him inside.



 

**Chapter 11**

_Isak’s POV_

  * Isak is generally unharmed.
  * He’s used to being treated really well by Even so he’s a bit malnourished (Even gives him a lot of meat, fruit etc. while thralls mostly just eat gruel and not that much).
  * Sonja was one of the people that took him because the men were off on the raid and she slapped him around a bit.
  * She taunted him by telling him he’s nothing more than a pet, Even will get sick of him once Sonja gives him children, she’s going to sell Isak to whoever wants him etc.
  * Isak is nervous and skittish around Even, he flinches when he tries to touch him and calls him Master because he’s angry with him. It makes Even recoil and Isak feels guilty.
  * At night Isak calls out for him and Even tries to comfort him but Isak screams and tells him to get away from him.
  * Christoffer comes to visit Isak and Even tells him to leave because Isak is too traumatized and jumpy around people.  
They’re both surprised when Isak comes out and hugs Christoffer.
  * Christoffer tells Even that when he and Sonja inevitably marry, he’ll be offering to buy Isak.
  * Even tells Christoffer he can’t put a price on Isak and Christoffer alludes to him that he’s selfish for wanting a wife when he has Isak and keeping him close even though he’s clearly in pain.
  * Even is shaken by what Christoffer has said and tells Isak that he won’t have him see Christoffer anymore. He pulls the master card.
  * Christoffer was Isak’s only comfort when Isak thought Even was going to marry Sonja so Isak gets angry at him for the first time since he’s been back and he screams at him for the first time since he was taken.
  * He runs to hide in his old room, Even’s is no longer a comfort.



 

**Chapter 12**

_Eva POV_

  * Eva blames Even for Isak being taken. She thinks he brought it on himself by spoiling Isak and then not protecting him.
  * After Isak storms upstairs she makes a snide comment to Even about how he should have protected Isak, but he was too busy fucking his wife. (Eva doesn’t know they haven’t slept together).
  * Eva leaves in the middle of the night and goes to Christoffer’ house.
  * He makes a snarky comment about late night visits but she tells him to be serious, she needs some weapons.
  * He gets serious and asks why and she tells him she’s going to leave and take Isak and Vilde with her.
  * She asks him if he’s gonna try to stop her and he says no, but they shouldn’t be out in the woods with just weapons.
  * Christoffer gives her some coins too.
  * The next morning Eva asks Isak if he wants to get away and go home with her. Isak cries and says yes, he wants to leave this place. He’s miserable and he wants to go home. He can’t bear to watch Even marry Sonja or worse, live in the same house as her after what happened.
  * Even a burnt out shell of a home is better than staying and watching Even replace him, knowing he never really loved him.
  * They go to Vilde’s house and steal one of William’s horses. They set out that morning.



  
**Chapter 13**

_Vilde POV_

  * Vilde is tired and hungry but tries not to complain. She’s riding a horse, Isak is clinging to her back asleep. He cried after they left.
  * They settle under a tree in the woods when it starts to get dark.
  * Vilde starts a fire and cooks some fish while Isak is basically catatonic.
  * She notices he’s wrapped in Even’s cloak and keeps covering his nose with it.
  * Eva spoons Isak while they sleep and she’s a little jealous because she wants to feel Eva’s arms around her but she knows Isak needs it more.
  * She wakes up to some noise, she’s always been a light sleeper, she sees Even who is scary because he’s so tall, and she lets out a high pitched scream.
  * Eva is up like a shot and pressing an axe to his throat.
  * She tells him he better let them leave or she’ll split him open.
  * Even’s not listening to Eva he only has eyes for Isak.
  * Even tells Isak he didn’t take him because he was beautiful, he took him because he knew someone else would have, that the Jutland village was weak and offered Isak no protection. He also tells him he should have protected him and he’s sorry.
  * Isak starts to cry and runs to him, throwing himself in his arms.
  * Eva as horrified at the revelation that Even had planned the raid and therefore she believes him to be complicit in the murder of the old folk including her mother.
  * She shoves her axe in his face again while Even stares back at her not reacting, just holding Isak.
  * Eva lists all the indignities and rapes she’s been forced to endure because of him raiding their village and taking her and is on the verge of tears.
  * Eva is furious and tells Isak to get away from him but they’re both clinging to each other.
  * Vilde can’t stand to see Eva or Isak like this so she grabs Eva’s face and asks her, “Are we like them? Do we just kill people first and talk later? No.”
  * Vilde snaps at Even and asks him how he’s planning on making this right. Isak may have forgiven him but he ruined their lives just because he wanted him.
  * Eva is taken aback because Vilde is usually so mild mannered.
  * Even promises he’ll make it right, somehow.
  * They’re on the horse ride back and Vilde is on Eva’s horse, behind her. Eva is glaring at Isak and Even who are riding in front of them.
  * Vilde sees Even holding Isak and wonders what it would be like to have someone love her enough to come after her.
  * Then she remembers Eva did, twice. She giggles and buries her face in her back.



 

**Chapter 14**

_Even POV_

  * They arrive at the homestead and Eva heads to her room in a huff, Vilde trailing after her.
  * She slams the door loudly.
  * Isak and Even are very delicate with each other, basically walking on eggshells.
  * Even tells Isak he didn’t take him because he was beautiful but because he saw him laughing and it was the brightest thing he had seen in many years.
  * Isak is touched and gently kisses him.
  * They make love.  
Finally Isak tells Even what happened since they’ve reconciled. He recounts the ordeal where he was taken.
  * Isak lets it slip that Sonja was amongst those that took him and all the terrible details of what she said and did came out.  
Even is furious and leaves.
  * He goes to Sonja’s home and tells her that the engagement is off and it should have never begun.
  * Sonja is heartbroken and reveals that she’s loved him since she was a girl. She talks to him about how difficult it is to be unwed at her age in this village and how she needs to think about herself and her family.
  * Even coldly says he does not recall meeting her at all.
  * This is the turning point with Even realizing he can’t live like this anymore, Isak needs to be safe and the only way that can happen is if he fixes this entire village himself.
  * Even goes to see William and tells him he wants his help getting rid of his father.  
William agrees because his Father is a monster but mostly because he’s sick of being under his thumb and wants to seize power.
  * At first they plan alone but Vilde overhears and runs to tell Isak.
  * Isak tells him to stop being an idiot, they need to trust each other, and the entire group plans together.



 

**Chapter 15**

_Isak POV_

  * Over the next few weeks Even starts to win over many of the North men; it transpires that many of them hold no allegiance to Erik who is brutal and has lost many men over the year, far more than neighbouring villages.
  * Even challenges Erik.
  * During the fight, Erik starts taunting Even that he and Nikolai were behind the deaths of his family and their servants.  He tells him that they raped his mother before killing her, and he’s going to look forward to doing the same to Isak once Even is dead.  He thinks this will break Even.
  * Even goes apocalyptic which is the opposite of what William’s father was expecting.
  * They have a huge, bloody fight
  * Isak is watching the whole fight, horrified because he’s never seen Even so angry.
  * Even has been stabbed but is still putting up a good fight
  * Erik tries to take a stab Isak because even though Even has been stabbed he’s still not backing down and he wants to distract him
  * Even isn’t fast enough to stop him but Christoffer protects Isak instead by jumping in front of Erik’s sword.
  * As he bleeds out tells him that in another life, where he took Isak first, Isak could have loved him.
  * Christoffer dies in Isak’s arms.
  * Isak clings to Christoffer’s body, traumatised, because it’s the same way his mother died, and Christoffer’s final act truly was an unselfish one. Isak does not feel he deserved to be protected by Christoffer who he used many times for selfish reasons.
  * Even almost dies but in the end he defeats him (not before telling him that the burned body he paraded round the village was Nikolai) and kills him.
  * Isak is too afraid to look up, he thinks Even is dead, until Even cups his face and makes him look at him.
  * Isak finally lets go of Christoffer and throws himself into Even’s arms.
  * What little of the North men still held allegiance to Erik now understand what a monster he was for killing Christoffer.



 

**Epilogue**

_Isak POV_

  * Even, Isak, Vilde, Eva, and Jonas sail to Jutland.
  * It’s the summer time and Isak loves to feel the familiar warmth on his cheeks after months of blistering cold.
  * Isak combs his hair when the wind settles and Eva calls him vain. He uses Christoffer’s jade comb and remembers the funeral they had held for him.
  * They arrive and Isak goes to the burnt out husk of a church where Eva’s mother and the rest of them burned. He knows how to write now so he carves a stone for Helen and puts it onto the burnt earth.
  * Isak goes to the hovel where his Mother was buried and leaves a marker for her as well
  * Isak tearfully says goodbye to Vilde and Eva. They are planning to rebuild the village or travel to a city where they can be together.
  * Jonas is to marry Eva so Vilde and Eva can be together without suspicion.
  * When it comes to Jonas, Isak hugs him and tells him he is his dearest new friend and they will meet again in another life.
  * Isak tells Even he’s ready to go home now, and he and Even get back in the boat to sail back to Hålogaland.
  * This time, with Even as the new Viking chief, it is willingly.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we reach the end of our story, though of course it will never be the end of Isak and Even’s story. Because even though we’re saying goodbye to them here, they’ll live on through Skam, and through the creativity of this fandom, in so many different universes, for a long time to come.
> 
> We hope you enjoyed these final seven chapters, and the outline of what we had planned for Part 2: The Sun Shall Bleed. It’s a bittersweet feeling for us that we never got to tell you the second part of their story, of Even’s acceptance of his responsibility; of his plan, and his execution of that plan, to take control of the evil that resides in Hålogaland in order to turn it into something good, and a place that he and Isak could be proud to call home. The outline to part two was written when we first started planning the fic. We loved it and were excited to write it. We hope that by providing it, it will allow your imaginations to soar. In any case, we hope the happy ending for TOSF was enough to bring viking!Even and thrall!Isak’s story to a satisfying close for our amazing and loyal readers who have left us so many beautiful comments over the months since we started posting this.
> 
> We both believe in the power of fanfiction. It brings people all around the world together. It can be adventurous and experimental in a way that published authors, working towards the biggest market, often can’t allow their work to be. It can be funny, sexy, fluffy, dark, heartbreaking and everything in between. It can even save lives. We hope the Skam ficdom continues to thrive long after we’re gone. We hope that Isak and Even get their happy ending in every possible universe.
> 
> It’s no real secret that we left this fandom as a result of the abuse we were receiving. Some of that abuse was easier to ignore than others. A lot of it was relatively harmless and easy to brush off. Ultimately it was a particular type of abuse, that went far beyond fandom nonsense, that made us draw a line under our time here. It just wasn’t feeling good or safe for us anymore. And unfortunately in some ways the fandom hasn’t moved on. Just last week, a hate account on Twitter was allowed to thrive and fester, because of the amount of people feeding it.
> 
> That account was run by a person who disclosed that they were mentally ill. The same person ended their time on the account with a suicide note. When we were told about this, we felt a huge amount of sympathy for the person behind it. Whether that person was lying about their suicide attempt or whether they were telling the truth, let’s just think about that for a moment. About how there needs to be some basic human compassion applied even when people do bad and unsympathetic things. It made us realise that even when someone is capable of being vitriolic and of causing hurt and anxiety to others, they are still just a person battling with their own demons. It mostly made us very sad, and very disillusioned about how fandom is failing its most vulnerable members.
> 
> If you have experienced hate or felt your mental health deteriorate as a result of fandom, or even if you have been the one to send hate, please just take a moment to prioritise your own personal sense of mental wellness. Talk to someone you trust. If there is nobody in your life that applies to, there will be a helpline for your country which will be free and which will have someone on the other end able to give you impartial support and advice. You can find a general list of these here:
> 
> https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lineshttps://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines 
> 
> Don’t deny yourself the fundamental human right of being happy. Everyone is rooting for you even if they don’t know it. Because kindness to yourself can only lead to kindness to others, and that is literally the most important and powerful force in the world. 
> 
> Have a go at breaking through that sheet of ice that isolates you from the rest of the world. It worked for Even and Isak in this story, and it will hopefully work for you too. Take some time away from the internet, away from petty fandom squabbles, from subtweeting and judging and creating feuds based on nothing but drama. We all mess up, we all say things we regret; hopefully we grow and learn and go on to be better people. 
> 
> When you are online, enjoy it. Enjoy interacting with people from around the world, discussing something you love. If it no longer feels good, think about what you can personally do to feel better within yourself.
> 
> Love to you all. And farewell. <3


End file.
